Head Over Heels
by StarryNightxoxo
Summary: She never thought that kicking someone, erm, below the belt, could change both of their lives. And an ice-cool sexy womanizer's below-the-belt at that. NxM. AU.
1. Ouch

**Author's Note: **Just an idea that has been in my notebook for quite some time. I hope this isn't too bad. :] Please note that updates might be pretty slow since I'm busy with school and have not fully developed the plot for this story. Cheers. :)

And no, I've never kicked a person _there,_ in case you were wondering. :')

**Disclaimer: **Maybe if I'd asked Santa during Christmas I'd own GA. _Not. _

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 1: Ouch  
><strong>

**Summary: **_She never thought that kicking someone, erm, below the belt, could change both of their lives. And an ice-cool millionaire womanizer's below-the-belt at that._

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><p>"No, don't do this, N-Natsume! You can't do this to me!" a petite woman with long strawberry-blonde tresses cried, banging on the table so hard that the two tall glasses of cappuccino on it almost toppled.<p>

A few people in the cafe glanced over at their table, and Natsume Hyuuga rolled his eyes behind his Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He should have known better than to do this in a place swarmed with people.

"Shut up," he hissed. "I have a damn reputation to keep up, unlike you. So you had better stop your stupid whining and just take this all in and move on, Chiyo, or was it Risa? Well, whatever. Don't waste my precious time." With that, he scraped his chair back, got to his feet and slapped a crisp fifty-dollar bill onto the tabletop.

"Use this to foot the bill for our _ last _meal, or more appropriately, drinks. Keep the change."

"You can't freaking break up with me like this! I've genuinely fallen for you! How could you do this to me, you bastard?" the woman screeched and snatched up one of the glasses of cappuccino. Before Natsume knew what was happening, a stream of brown liquid hit him in his face and dripped all over his long-sleeved black-and-white shirt.

By now, the whole cafe was gaping at the confrontation before their very eyes. Whispers and giggles could be heard everywhere in the cafe.

"You damn bitch," Natsume growled menacingly, anger invading his blood like poison. He had only been amused earlier, treating this whole thing as a joke as usual, but now he was _really _fired-up. How dare she, how dare this little blonde fool _throw cappuccino at him, _the heartthrob celebrity model worth a few millions?

Frothy cappuccino was all over his hair and clothes, not to mention _face. _He ripped off his designer sunglasses which were also coated in coffee and glared at the woman with blood-red eyes blazing with so much hatred that she trembled.

"It's Natsume Hyuuga!" gasps arose from all around the room.

_"I told you he looked familiar!"_

_"Kyaaaa! He's even hotter in real-life compared to those mags and commercials, even with coffee dripping from him! Kyaa!"_

_"Oh my gosh, please can I have your autograph? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please?"_

"Shut the fuck up!" his voice was like a machine gun, piercing through the senseless babbles. Natsume picked up the other glass of cappuccino and poured it perfectly over the blonde's hair.

"Aaaaaaah!" she screamed as the warm liquid trickled down her hair and body. "AAAAAH!"

"Have a nice day," Natsume smirked as he spun around and pushed through the crowd that had gotten up from their tables and started crowding around him. Then he paused, "Oh, and about you being in love with me? You're wrong. You're in love with my status and my money. Not _me. _Get your facts straight." He smirked again at the deranged-looking woman and swept out of the cafe.

_"No, don't leave, Natsume-kuuun! I love you!"_

_"Natsume-sama! Marry me!"_

While all this hubbub was going on, a pretty young brunette was sitting at a little table tucked away in the corner of the cafe and sipping her caramel frappe calmly. She tucked away her notebook and pen into her bag and smiled contentedly. She had had _quite _a fulfilling day. It was definitely a good decision to go to Starbucks instead of going to karaoke with her fellow co-workers. Not that she didn't like them, but their singing could give a person a throbbing headache. She pulled out her iPhone and speed-dialed her boss-slash-best-friend.

After a few rings, a soft monotonous voice answered, "Hotaru Imai speaking."

"Hotaru? It's me, Mikan. You should so look forward to tomorrow's column! I've got a scoop on, and I kid you not, Natsume Hyuuga! He was such a blasted jerk."

"Oh? Am I glad to hear that. I shall be expecting it on my desk before five."

"Roger that, boss!"

* * *

><p>"Well, of course I love you, and you alone," Natsume drawled into his phone as he waited for his photo-shoot in his private waiting room. He fingered the black choker around his neck, bored. "Yeah, see you later, hon."<p>

He rolled his eyes as he ended the call. What a windbag that woman was. And Natsume couldn't even remember her _name, _not that he cared though.

"Natsume!" the door burst open and a middle-aged blonde man scurried in, carrying a page from a newspaper. "Natsume!"

"What the heck is it?" Natsume sighed at his dramatic manager, Narumi.

"Look at this! Look at this filthy rag of a newspaper!" Narumi trilled in a panicked voice, handing over the page to the supermodel. Raising his eyebrow curiously, Natsume peered at the page.

**Coffee, Tea or Me?**

_Fallen head over heels for celebrity model and millionaire Natsume Hyuuga? Have posters of his glorious face and body all over your room? Well, it's about time to snap back to reality and take them down from your walls! _

_Natsume Hyuuga, 23, the young, rich and sexy heir of his family's famous chain of hotels, The Hyuuga, was spotted in a Starbucks outlet yesterday evening. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses as disguise. (Really, now? Do celebrities really think a pair of designer shades are going to let them not attract attention?) He was apparently breaking up with a young amateur model, Chisa Miyazaki, 21, for reasons unknown. Things got chaotic when the latter threw cappuccino all over the former. Mr. Hyuuga was livid, and in retaliation, poured coffee over Ms. Miyazaki's head. _

_Let's just say things got ugly, shall we? Mr. Hyuuga, who was among the Top 10 Most Sought-After Men according to Entertainment!, swore and delivered cold words to Ms. Miyazaki, who was on the brink of breaking down. "Oh, and about you being in love with me? You're wrong. You're in love with my status and my money. Not me. Get your facts straight," was what the black-haired heartthrob said to the blonde model before leaving the cafe. It is no wonder Ms. Miyazaki was crying her heart out and stuffing her mouth with bread after this little incident._

_"He's a stupid twit, I hate him!" Ms. Miyazaki was heard crying. _

_Well, all I can say is, the previous rumors of Natsume Hyuuga being an ice-cold womanizer without a compassionate bone in his body proved to be true. He was spotted once again with another girl just two hours after breaking up with Ms. Miyazaki. So girls out there, stop drooling over the rich bachelor and see his true colors!_

"What the eff is this crap?" Natsume burst out, ripping up the page. "What is this filthy shit? They're just plainly insulting me! Well, I'm definitely suing the pants off this crap newspaper. Give me the name of this rag, Naru. Now."

"Before you get your pants in a twist, I'd appreciate it if you told me if this story is true or false," Narumi replied calmly, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, obviously it's-"

"Before you lie through your teeth, you should know that if this is true, it definitely will not benefit you if you sue them," his manager said pleasantly.

"Fine. It's true, okay? But that girl threw herself at me. And you know what I'm like more than anyone else. I get bored with them. And when I do, I jilt them." Natsume shrugged.

"Ah, of course. You're a playboy. You don't like to get tied down."

"Generally, no. I don't believe in this whole love crap. It's just some nonsense, let me tell you," Natsume rolled his eyes. "Now, get me the newspaper's name and this column's reporter. I have to give her a taste of her own medicine, this little bitch."

"Very well," Narumi said, nodding, already feeling sorry for the poor little reporter who was sure going to get a harsh dressing-down from the almighty Natsume Hyuuga. "The newspaper is Tokyo's leading photo newspaper, The Tokyo Chronicles. Ms. Mikan Sakura is the gossip columnist."

"Good," Natsume said, his eyes blazing. "You're going down, Mikan Sakura."

* * *

><p>"Mikan! Is what that thing in your column today true?" Misaki Harada, the style editor, stared at Mikan as she passed by her desk.<p>

"Well, of course!" Mikan said, a little offended. What, did people really think Natsume Hyuuga was an angel? "I saw them with my bare eyes."

"Dang. I should've gone to Starbucks with you instead of karaoke. Do you have _any _idea what those people were singing and dancing to? 'Sexy and I Know It'. Seriously! I had to cover my eyes and ears," Misaki complained.

A bubble of laughter escaped Mikan's lips. "Anyway, have you heard about Winona Ryder and-"

_'Ring! Ring!' _the phone sitting on her desk trilled.

"If you'd excuse me, I'll tell you about the whole Winona thing later..." Mikan beamed at the pink-haired style editor. Misaki returned her smile in relief- she'd heard _too _much about celebrity gossip from Mikan that she could survive without another one.

"Hello? Mikan Sakura speaking," Mikan said into the phone.

"Ms. Sakura, this is Narumi L. A-" The man was interrupted and a crash could be heard.

"Ms. Sakura, this is Natsume Hyuuga. I would like to meet you, preferably this evening. I have a serious issue about that gossip column in the Chronicles today," a low, husky voice said.

Mikan's eyes widened slightly. She'd never liked Natsume Hyuuga. She'd known that he was a stupid womanizer in the first place. And his attitude in the cafe yesterday? Not pretty.

"Dear Mr. Hyuuga, I'm very honored to receive a call from you. Unfortunately, I'm not available this evening. I have to cover a charity event."

"Don't give me that crap. I knew this was coming so I got my manager to speak to your boss, Ms. Imai. She informed me that you are free after 5.30pm."

_Hotaru! How could you? _Mikan clamped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. That happens to be tomorrow. I got confused. Anyway, I'd be honored to meet you, Mr. Hyuuga. Say, how about 5.45pm at the Starbucks nearest to the Chronicles building?"

"Don't you ever fucking mention Starbucks, you pig," he said harshly.

"You sure have a foul mouth. Want me to mention it in my next issue, hm?" Mikan challenged, getting irritated by Natsume's cocky, arrogant and rude tone. He didn't even know her! How dare he be so rude? "I dare you to."

"You said so yourself, Mr. Hyuuga," Mikan said in a fake chirpy voice.

"We will discuss this later. 5.40pm at Alice Park, near the fountain. I don't care how you get there. If you don't get there by 5.40pm, I will personally kill you. I'm a busy man," Natsume snapped.

With that, the line went dead. Mikan pinched the bridge of her nose as she put the phone down. She checked her watch. 1731 blinked up at her. Well, if she was going to get there before 5.40pm, she had to practically _fly _there.

"I'm no Wonder Woman, bastard," she muttered as she hurried out of the building and hailed a cab. Well, damn. Natsume Hyuuga had better had a darn good reason to meet her for her to splurge on a stupid cab.

* * *

><p>"You are one minute and twenty-three seconds late, young woman," Natsume glared at Mikan. The two of them were standing under a tree near the fountain, hidden away from view.<p>

"I sincerely apologize," Mikan droned in a tone that was anything but sincere. Who wanted to be polite to a big fat jerk? But she had to admit, he looked gorgeous in the flesh now that she got to see him up close. His ink-black hair was slightly ruffled by the breeze, and he was wearing a plain long-sleeved black shirt, ripped jeans and sneakers that she knew probably cost more than her annual salary. Damn these rich bastards, seriously.

Natsume looked Mikan up and down. She was wearing a white cardigan over a floral tube dress and stilettos with at least 3-inches heels. Her auburn curls were pulled up into a high ponytail and her bangs touched her eyebrows.

_"Not as ugly as I thought she'd be," _Natsume thought grudgingly.

"Stop staring at me like that, idiot," Mikan snapped, interrupting his thoughts.

Natsume stared at her, appalled. Did she just say what he thought she just said? "Say that again."

"Stop staring at me like that, idiot," the brunette rolled her eyes. "What, do you have hearing problems? Well, great. Another thing to add to my column tomorrow."

Anger washed over Natsume like a tidal wave. This was the first time in his life anyone has ever talked to him like that. No one has ever raised their voice at him, for that matter. Now this little shortie was glaring at him and spouting insults? Well, damn, she needed to be taught a good lesson.

"You little shortie, listen up," Natsume growled. "I contacted you to give you a piece of my mind about that piece of crap in your newspaper and now you're just digging your own grave. I swear if you weren't a woman, I'd have pummeled the life out of you, you little weasel."

"Well, bite me," Mikan hissed. Her bottled-up frustration seemed to explode all at once. She couldn't stand this arrogant brat. So what if he was good-looking and rich? That didn't give him a right to insult and hurt people, did it? She couldn't believe she was standing up to a gorgeous, rude-as-heck and filthy rich celebrity. But there was no going back. This was _war. _

"You said it," the raven-haired model hissed back. Just who did this little girl think she was, insulting him, _the _Natsume Hyuuga like that? Not even his parents had so much as raised his voice at him! He pulled back his fist and swung it at Mikan's face, no longer caring if he destroyed her not-so-ugly face. Well, the rude brat deserved to get her face disfigured, he thought.

To his surprise, Mikan blocked the attack by catching the fist with her palm. She pushed him with just one arm and he staggered one step behind.

"I might have forgotten to mention, I have a black belt in taekwondo," she said airily.

"You... little... bitch," Natsume growled, his crimson eyes blazing with menace. "You asked for it." And he managed to kick her on her shin.

Mikan winced in pain but she was determined to get revenge. "You damn jerk!" She landed him a hefty kick using her other leg _right on his manhood. With her high-heeled shoe. _Mikan watched in guilt and satisfaction as Natsume groaned and collapsed onto the ground, curling up. She seriously had no idea whether she had done it on purpose or accidentally.

"Fuuuuuuuuuu..." Natsume moaned. "You asshole, I'll kill you for this. I'll strangle you with my bare hands, I swear."

Mikan could only stand rooted to the spot, watching in horror as the model writhed in pain on the ground. "Err..." She started scooting away, but Natsume managed to growl, "Move an inch and you're dead!"

_Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? _Mikan thought in exasperation.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p>Sorry for the swearing, but I figured it really fitted in the situations, you know? Reviews are, as always, appreciated. :)<p>

**P.S.** /shameless It's my birthday today. :P (_Happy birthday to me! XD)_ Birthday presents are welcome in the form of reviews. XP


	2. Slavery

**Author's Note: **It's been more than three months, I deserve to die. -shoots self- I'm so sorry. OTL. Thank you for the awesome reviews (and birthday wishes) for the first chapter(:

**Disclaimer: **Le me doesn't own GA.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 2: Slavery  
><strong>

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><p>"You <em>ran away <em>after kicking Natsume Hyuuga's...?" Hotaru's violet eyes widened so ever slightly and her mouth twitched, staring at the hysterical brunette in front of her.

"Y-yeah, what did you expect me to do, stay there and get pummeled by him?" Mikan sniffed. "He's freaking scary! What's with those red eyes? Does he wear contacts or something? Does he want to cosplay as some newborn vampires or whatever from Twilight?"

Hotaru rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't think so."

"He's going to come after me! He won't let me off the hook!" Mikan wailed. Right on cue, a knock could be heard on the door of the ground-floor flat Hotaru and Mikan shared. Mikan's brown eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "The vampire has come! Save me, Hotaru!"

Calmly, the black-haired woman got to her feet and walked over to the door. When she opened it, a man dressed in an immaculate black suit was standing outside with a soldier's stance.

"Good day, lady," he said in a smooth, professional voice. "Natsume-sama eagerly wants to meet Miss Mikan Sakura. Is she, by any chance, in?"

"Say no!" Mikan shouted in her head, crouched behind the sofa and staring daggers at the back of Hotaru's head, hoping that by some miracle she would be able to read her mind.

"Oh, she is," Hotaru replied. "Would you like me to get her?"

"If you so kindly would," the man nodded.

"Hotaru! You fail as a mind-reader!" Mikan exploded, leaping out from behind the couch.

"I never said I was one." The person in question raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Tell that stupid egoistic jerk I would rather dunk my head in the toilet than to meet him!" the stubborn brunette shouted.

The man arched a brow. _Hold on a second... what did that glint in his eyes mean? _Mikan looked warily at him.

"AAAAH!"

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><p>"Stop the car at once! Or I'll... I'll... dig out all of that stupid jerk's disgraceful deeds and you'll see them splashed all over the newspaper tomorrow! Hah, take that!" Mikan banged on the black limousine's door furiously. She could <em>not <em>believe that she had actually been kidnapped in broad daylight. Sure, the limousine was posh and all- damn those rich brats. Did they really need a god damn _bar _in their car?- but she so did not want to see Natsume Hyuuga.

"I suggest you stop struggling and just keep still, Miss Sakura," the man said pleasantly. "Natsume-sama merely wants to have a quick word with you."

"_Have a quick word?_" Mikan repeated incredulously. "Would you _have a quick word _with the person who kicked your crotch?"

The man stifled a laugh, turning it into a cough instead. "No comment."

Soon, the limousine turned into a massive driveway in front of a humungous, gorgeous bungalow tucked away behind tall, twisty trees. The black car shuddered gently to a stop. The man unlocked the door, got out and held the door for Mikan.

"After you, Miss Sakura." He held out a gloved hand to Mikan.

The brunette narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you _serious? _I'm not so clumsy that I can't get out on my own without falling, thank you."

He stifled yet another laugh. "Of course not. I'm sorry. Let me take you to Natsume-sama."

The two of them walked down a long, smooth path. The sides were lined with bright green bushes, plants and trees. Butterflies and bees flitted among them. It was absolutely stunning. The house was even more stunning. It was a huge white house with glittering glass on one side, overlooking a small but beautiful pond.

"He lives alone in a huge house like this?" Mikan asked, her mouth hanging open.

"You'll see," the man chuckled lightly as he pressed a button on the intercom.

"Natsume-sama, I've brought Miss Sakura."

"Bring her in," a familiar, sexy voice drawled.

A big glossy door opened and the man gestured for Mikan to go in. "See you, Miss Sakura," he smiled.

Mikan looked around the room, her jaw slack. It was furnished tastefully with black, white and grey furniture and a huge, gorgeous spiral staircase stood at the side of the room. To her surprise, a small, fluffy, white puppy was curled up on the black carpeted floor.

"There you are, Miss High-Heels," a sarcastic voice said, and Mikan turned around, gulping. Natsume was leaning against the spiral staircase, looking as hot as ever, even in casual clothing. He looked adorably bored, and his messy black hair was covered by the hood of his baggy black hoodie. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans. His red eyes were piercing as he walked down the stairs, looking impossibly amazing. He was indeed a wonderful model- even he looked so, well, graceful while walking down the stairs. That made Mikan hate him even more. How could he walk so perfectly while _she _looked like a clumsy duck while walking down the stairs?

"Cut the crap, what do you want?" Mikan snapped, not the least bit frightened. _Okay, maybe a little. _Fine, maybe a lot. She just did not want to admit it.

"Mm, seems like your tongue is as sharp as your heels, eh?" Natsume arched an eyebrow as he approached her. "Well, too bad, because we have some serious business to get down to."

He flopped down onto the huge cream-colored sofa that looked as if it cost a million yen and patted the seat next to him. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

Mikan sat down stiffly beside him. "Stop beating around the bush already!"

"Fine," Natsume rolled his eyes as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "You see, my doctor told me that I am now infertile after I went to him yesterday."

Mikan snorted, "Who are you kidding? Do you think I was born yesterday? It takes a lot more than one kick for that to happen."

"You're not a man, how should you know? I have evidence, Miss Mikan Sakura," Natsume said icily, shoving the piece of paper at her.

Mikan ran her eyes down it, and a chill ran down her spine. "W-Well, it looks fake to me. You're not gonna threaten me with this."

"Do you think _I _will waste my precious time faking a document to fool _you?_" he said incredulously. The way he said it made Mikan cringe. "Anyway, it's a fact that I'm infertile now and you must take responsibility."

"WHAT?" the brunette sprang up from the couch as if it was on fire. "What do you want me to do? Return you a dick? I'm sorry, I can't!"

Natsume smirked. "I know you can't... unless you're a..."

Mikan's cheeks flamed as she hopped around in frustration. "Don't you even..."

"Anyway, the thing you must do to repay me..."

"WHAT IS IT?" Mikan shouted, her cheeks red. "Just say it already!"

"Be my slave."

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><p>My exams are finally over, yay! I'll put up the next chapter soon, but I can't promise anything because it's a busy weekend ahead. I'm going to watch The Avengers and it's Mothers' Day in my country on Sunday. (Love you, mommy3 )<p> 


	3. Shock and Horror

**Author's note:** I broke my promise. I'm so sorry, but I was still as busy even after my exams. Oh, drat school, seriously. Sorry for the boring chapter but I really wanted to update this.

**Disclaimer: **You know it.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 3: Shock and Horror**

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><p>To say Mikan was shocked would not even <em>begin <em>to describe it.

"Are you out of your MIND?" she shouted, her face pale.

"Uh, last time I checked, I was not."

"Then get checked again! You're most definitely crazy! Argh! Leave me alone!" Mikan hopped around some more. It amused Natsume how she could jump around like a kangaroo in high heels.

"Just be my slave and I'll leave you alone," he rolled his eyes and held up three fingers, to which Mikan raised her eyebrow warily.

"Three months. That's it. I will leave you alone after that. I won't sue you or anything for rendering me infertile," he said seriously. "I'm a man who keeps his promises. Ask anyone."

"_Anyone? _Shall I ask one of those skanks whom you previously dated? _'Oh, darling_, _I'll love you forever to the end of time'?" _Mikan scoffed haughtily.

"I see you're in favor of the lawsuit? Well, be prepared to..."

Mikan hastily cut Natsume off. "Fine! I'll be your freaking slave!" She knew just how powerful and influential that darned man was and she wasn't about to offend him anymore. Well, anyway, being a slave had to be better than, say, marrying him for making him infertile, wasn't it? Mikan decided.

"Good girl," Natsume said in a dry voice. "I'll contact you then. See you later, Mikan."

* * *

><p>"Natsume..." said person's best friend, Ruka Nogi, frowned at him as they sat in their waiting room. "Are you <em>sure <em>you want to do this? She's not a toy, you know."

Natsume snorted, "All women are toys. Mikan Sakura may be different from most, but she's still a toy to me. A slave." He grinned.

The kind-hearted Ruka sighed, fiddling with the annoying necklace the stylist made him wear. God knows why he became a model when he hated dressing up, anyway.

"You should stop playing around with girls, Natsume... To the extent of pretending you're infertile? You're seriously..."

"Smart?" a corner of Natsume's lips hitched up into a grin. "I know, right? She's too stupid to believe that a damn kick to the balls can make _me _infertile. Well, a tough guy's gotta have tough balls, right?"

His blonde friend face-palmed, shaking his head. Natsume was really, well, hopeless. "Don't mess this up, Natsume," he warned.

"You're speaking like you're a woman, wanting to protect your sex from the likes of me," the dark-haired model rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Well, worry about yourself first, won't you? You've fallen for the ice-bitch, haven't you?"

Ruka's cheeks colored, and he lit up like a beacon. Typical.

"Natsume-kun, it's your turn!" his manager Narumi poked his head around the door, raising his eyebrows slightly at Ruka's crimson face.

Natsume smirked and strode out of the room. "Don't sweat it, Ruka. All women are meant to be toys."

* * *

><p>Mikan stuffed a bursting file into her bag, preparing to go home. The office was already empty since it was an early day off for everyone and she'd stayed to hand in her column. A sudden ring erupted from her phone, making her file drop onto the floor.<p>

"Hello?" she grimaced, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she bent down to gather the papers that had fanned out on the floor.

"Dinner at 7 tonight. I'll pick you up at your office. We need to go through details of your slavery, bye."

"Wait, what?" Mikan slapped her file onto the table and held her phone properly. "Natsume?"

"Is it wise of you to be calling your master by his first name?" a deep voice said.

"Hyuuga, what are you talking about?" she ignored the jibe.

There was a sigh from the other end. "Dinner. I'll pick you up from your office now. See ya."

"Wait!" _Beep, beep. _Oh, great. The jerk had hung up. Rolling her eyes, Mikan blew her bangs from her eyes and made her way downstairs. To her surprise, a white open-top convertible was dwindling by the road, instead of the usual black limousine.

"Oh, so you actually drive." Mikan's voice dripped with sarcasm as she climbed into the lush leather seat.

Natsume adjusted his sunglasses and cocked his head slightly. "If only you have as much boobs as you do sarcasm."

Mikan's face flamed as she slapped her arms over her chest. "Stupid pervert. You deserve to be infertile, I tell you."

Natsume turned to face the road, hiding a tiny smirk as he stepped on the accelerator.

* * *

><p>"Rich brats," Mikan muttered as the two of them entered a posh little restaurant. It was dark, lit by the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The carpet was dark purple with gold swirls, and tables draped with silk tablecloths were arranged neatly around the room.<p>

"Mr Hyuuga, Ms Sakura," the maître d' greeted in a polite tone. "Let me bring you to your table."

A waiter pulled out the chair for Mikan, another fluffed a napkin over her knees and yet another poured out posh-looking red wine into her glass. Mikan looked at Natsume, horrified. The same was happening on his side of the table, but he looked unfazed, as if having three waiters attending to you was perfectly normal.

"This is unreal..." Mikan muttered. "Rich brats indeed."

Natsume looked at her as if she'd just asked what gravity is. "Well. So, we'll go through the details of your slavery."

Mikan shot him a scathing look. "It's not slavery. Call it... domestic help."

Natsume raised an eyebrow, and Mikan suddenly snorted with laughter. Her whole body was convulsing with laughter and she slapped a hand to her mouth to tone down the peals of laughter escaping from her mouth. This was a posh restaurant... she had to maintain an elegant image.

"What the...?"

"Your e-e-eyebrows..." Mikan snorted, wiping a tear from her eye. "... are so short! Bwahaha! I've n-n-never noticed them before but... oh my God! It's definitely going into my next column. _Natsume Hyuuga, the man who likes to raise his short eyebrows." _

Natsume shot a death glare at Mikan, who shut up immediately. His red eyes had an intimidating aura.

"E-Excuse me. I'll... go to the washroom," the brunette said, obviously trying to stop staring at his eyebrows and chortling with laughter.

* * *

><p>Damn that woman. Did she really have to laugh for ten minutes just because of his eyebrows? Jeez, they <em>were <em>short but he still looked hot, didn't he? And it was because of genetics! The first dish had already been served, and that darned woman was still nowhere in sight. Rolling his eyes, Natsume got up to his feet and wandered over to the washroom.

"Hey, woman. You can stop laughing now."

No reply. A redhead who just came out of the washroom stared at Natsume, who had put on his sunglasses as a disguise. "There's no one inside, mister."

Giving her a curt nod of thanks, Natsume strode off. Where had that little girl run off to now? A flash of familiar chestnut brown hair caught his line of vision. _There she is. _Natsume started walking towards her, ready to give her a good dressing-down for running off. She was sitting at another table with three guys, laughing and flirting.

"What the hell...?"

Natsume strode up and grabbed Mikan by her hair.

"OWWW!"

"What are you doing? We're eating together, or don't you remember that?" he glared into her big brown eyes.

"Hey," a handsome guy with reddish-brown hair and purple eyes stood up from the table. He took Mikan's arm and looked pointedly at Natsume. "What are you doing with my fiancee?"

Natsume's ruby eyes widened by a millimeter. Oh, the shock and horror.

* * *

><p>Please drop a reviewcomment! Thank you. :)


	4. Bang!

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews, I'm really touched. This is the first time I've gotten over 20 reviews. :) Sorry for the late update too. I've been buried under a pile of projects. And addicted to the Olympics, hah.

**Disclaimer: **Just no.

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 4: Bang!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Natsume's gaze dropped to Mikan's bare left hand. But that didn't mean he liked the fact that it was twined around that man's arm.<p>

"Engaged?"

"Yes, engaged," the man rolled his eyes heavenwards. "E-n-g-a-g-e-d. You know, being formally almost-married? Yeah, that."

_Bastard. _"Thanks for that, but I happen to have an IQ of 136 and know how to spell." The dark-haired model narrowed his crimson eyes at the idiotic guy. His gaze flickered to Mikan, who was awkwardly clinging onto her fiance's arm and not meeting Natsume's eyes.

"Guilty now, are you? Why didn't you ever tell me you're engaged?" his voice was so sharp that Mikan winced.

"I... didn't see the importance. Besides, you never asked, did you? It's none of your business!" she retorted, injecting as much venom as she could into her voice, just to shut Natsume up. God, he could be so annoying at times. Wait, scratch that. He was annoying _all _the time.

His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but the little spark disappeared and was replaced by cold indifference tinged with... sadness?

"You're right. It's indeed none of my business. I'm sorry I even asked at all," Natsume replied coolly.

"Who the hell is he, anyway?" the almost-forgotten fiance of Mikan snapped.

"Natsume Hyuuga," said person shot back. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Reo Mouri," the copper-haired dude said, frowning slightly. "Have I met you before? You look familiar."

Ignoring Reo, Natsume turned to the brunette, who was standing there in a daze, regretting her cold words. That expression he had made when she said them was etched in her memory and no matter how she tried to get it out of her head, she couldn't forget it. It was the first time Natsume didn't have a silly smirk on his face.

"So, I'll see you around, Miss Sakura." He gave her a curt nod and started to stride towards the door. Like cutlery on a tablecloth being dragged along by him, the light and friendly atmosphere shared between the two shattered into smithereens, leaving nothing but sharp and cold splinters.

* * *

><p><em>Stupid girl... Who the hell would have thought that she's engaged? <em>Natsume rolled his eyes heavenwards as he strode along the street, his hands buried in his jean pockets.

_Why do you even care? _a voice said silently in his head. Holy crap, was he hallucinating?

_I don't know, just shut the fuck up, I'm already pissed off. _

"Natsume!"

_I told you, shut up. I'll survive without any of your smart-aleck comments._

"Hey!" Suddenly, something hit the back of Natsume's head. Growling, he spun around, ready to kill whichever drunkard who—

A brunette, strangely red in the face, was standing on the pavement, wearing only one shoe and panting slightly. Natsume glanced down and saw a slightly scuffed white ballerina flat lying on the ground.

"You," he sighed wearily.

"Yes, me," Mikan said defensively as she hopped forward clumsily on one foot to retrieve her shoe.

"I wonder what I owed your shoes in my past life."

"I... I'm sorry," she said awkwardly. "I was a little... too much back there. Um... dinnernextsaturday ?"

"What in the world was that?" Natsume rolled his eyes.

"Would. You. Like. To. Go. Out. For. Dinner. Next. Saturday...?" the brunette replied, placing extra emphasize on every single word. "Since. We—"

The dark-haired man placed his tanned hands on Mikan's shoulders and looked right into her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she lifted her head to look at him. Were his eyes always this... red? He leaned forward, his surprisingly soft bangs tickling her cheeks. His eyes blazing, he bent down until he was at the same height as the short girl. Mikan's heart hammered so loudly in her chest she was certain the whole world could hear it. Her eyes subconsciously fluttered close, waiting for the kiss she was certain was going to happen to land on her lips. Waiting... waiting...

"Would you please stop that because I'm already fuckin' pissed?" Natsume's low voice said into her ear, irritation clearly audible in his voice.

"S-Stop what?" Mikan murmured, licking her lips. Come on... why wasn't he kissing her already?

"Stop talking like an idiot," he answered, straightening his torso. "And looking like you thought I was going to kiss you."

Blood flooded Mikan's cheeks. "A-As if! Who'd want to get kissed by a stupid immature jerk like you?" _Oh, my God. What is wrong with me?_ she mentally slapped herself.

"Well, let's keep it that way." Natsume looked bored. "What was it you were asking me?"

"I was going to invite you to dinner, but now I'm having second thoughts," Mikan announced, crossing her arms across her chest. Her lips were still tingling, as though they'd been kissed.

"No thanks." Natsume winced slightly. "I'd rather not, if you know what I mean."

"Reo won't be there," the brunette promised.

"He might follow us."

"You're too paranoid. He _won't_."

"He will."

"He won't!"

"I say he will. Why not you cook and we can have dinner in the comfort of your place?" Natsume suggested coyly.

"Fine!" Mikan shouted. "I'll cook the best meal you have ever tasted in your entire life! See you there next Saturday at 7!"

She spun around and stalked off, her brown curls bobbing. _Oops._ _She'd forgotten to mention that that last time she cooked, she almost burned the house down. _

* * *

><p>"Hotaru, you have to help me!" Mikan whined on Saturday afternoon, clinging onto her best friend's arm.<p>

"No, I won't," the black-haired beauty snapped, trying to pry off Mikan as though she was some very irritating insect she'd like to swat. "You have to clean your own butt."

Mikan stopped trying to pull her friend's arm from her socket and looked at her, confused. "Huh?"

"When you poop, you don't expect someone else to clean your butt for you. Just like when you get yourself into trouble, you don't expect others to help you," Hotaru said impassively. "Now if you excuse me, I have an important meeting."

"That's just gross!" Mikan pulled a disgusted face. "But you _know _I can't cook."

Hotaru brushed off an imaginary speck of dust on her immaculate black jacket, picked up her briefcase and keys and headed for the door. She inserted her key in the lock and opened it.

"Mikan... People invented recipe books for a reason." The door clicked shut behind her.

* * *

><p>Four hours later, Mikan was surrounded by endless pots and pans and assorted cooking ware. Five recipe books were spread out on the kitchen table, two of them splattered with egg shells and three of them dusted with flour and gravy. A pot of water was boiling on the stove.<p>

"Okay... I can do this... I can cook miso soup. I'm Japanese, for God's sake! It's in my blood!" Mikan muttered to herself as she chopped up a block of tofu. She glanced at the clock and almost screamed. It was already 6 and she hadn't even finished cooking a single dish. Well, yes, she _had_, but they looked literally like crap, so she had no choice but to dump them.

"Damn that Natsume! I hope he— Ow, fuck!" Mikan looked at the lump of irregularly shaped white tofu on the chopping board. She had managed to destroy another block of tofu.

"Damn... damn..." She picked up the chopping board, debating within herself whether to dump in this pile of alien tofu. In the end, she threw all of it into the pot of water, grumbling.

"Shit!" Droplets of scorching water had splashed out from the pot and scalded her arm. "Shitty crap!"

Flinching, she held her arm under the running tap, trying to reorganize her thoughts. _Okay... so at least I haven't burnt anything yet. Everything's still fine. And there's still an hour left. I can whip up a baked potato with cheese, miso soup and omelette rice. Oh, and dessert too. But everything's still fine. _Okay, it was so not working. The problem with giving yourself a pep-talk is that deep down, you know it's all bullshit.

Mikan turned off the tap and took a deep breath. She turned around and surveyed the kitchen. It was like someone had just come in and bombed the whole place. She was going to have to stay up late cleaning the kitchen later. Biting back her tears of frustration, she tore off two pieces of aluminium foil (suffering a small cut on her finger in the process) and wrapped a potato each in the silver material. She dumped them into the microwave and banged the door shut. Okay, at least she had one dish under control.

Time for the omelette rice. Mikan opened the rice-cooker in which she had been steaming rice. To her horror, the rice looked like a glob of white rice that had lost its shape.

"Oh, whatever. At least it's still edible. I think." Heaving the rice out of the cooker, she managed to get it into a sizzling pan.

"Add ketchup, salt, pepper, mushrooms and chicken bits," Mikan read aloud from a stained recipe book.

Chucking in all the ingredients, she stirred the rice absent-mindedly.

'_Ding dong...' _the doorbell chimed. Shit. It must be Natsume. Hastily, Mikan threw down her spatula, wiped her sweat with the back of her hand and headed for the door, trying to exude a calm and yeah-I've-just-cooked-food-that-even-George-Clooney-would-die-for aura.

"Hi!" she said breezily as she opened the door. The raven-haired celebrity stood there, looking effortlessly hot in a black T-shirt that said _I'm Sexy and I Know It _and ripped jeans.

"I've got everything under control, absolutely," Mikan said with a bright smile plastered onto her face. "You just sit there and relax."

Pulling Natsume in, she practically shoved him onto the couch.

"Um, watch the telly or something. I've got photo albums under that coffee table... Give me a sec while I just... garnish the food." Before he could say anything, Mikan inched back into the kitchen and slammed the door shut. Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she went over to her pan of rice.

"Shit!" The rice was stuck firmly to the pan, and when she scraped it using a spatula, she discovered that it was all charred.

"Hey," a voice called out. "Can I come in? I need a drink."

"NO!" Mikan shouted hysterically, before clamping a hand over her mouth. "I mean... I'll get it for you. You're the guest!"

Dumping the rice onto the sink, she stuck her head in the fridge to look for a can of orange juice. She was _sure _it was there, unless she'd drunk it herself. But she couldn't have, because...

"Mother. Of. God."

Mikan almost jumped out of her skin. She turned around, frozen, and saw Natsume behind her, taking in the kitchen, his eyes wide.

"Had a tornado swept through your house?" he stared incredulously at the massacre in front of him.

Mikan's face burned. "Well... no, obviously. Um... I..."

"Can you even _cook?_" Natsume's mouth was twitching, as though he might burst out laughing.

The brunette clenched her fists tightly. She was not going to let him have the satisfaction of laughing at her. Uh-uh. She was Mikan Sakura, and she was not going to let anyone, not even the mighty Natsume Hyuuga, to laugh at her. Sucking in her breath sharply, she replied hotly, "Well, for your information, I—"

Before she could finish her smart-ass, sassy reply, there was an almighty 'BANG!' from the microwave oven. The two heads swivelled towards the smoking microwave instinctively.

"Holy shit... Did the microwave just... explode?"

* * *

><p>Boring chapter, I know. Haha. But I badly wanted to update this. How long has it been since I last updated this? _ Anyway, I hope you liked it, and thank you for reading. Please review! :]<p> 


	5. Ignorance is Bliss

**Author's Note:** Short chapter again. :(

**Disclaimer: **Noooo.

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 5: Ignorance is Bliss  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Let's just go out and eat," Natsume sighed exasperatedly, leaning against the island counter, an amused smirk playing on his lips.<p>

Mikan scowled as she wrenched open the microwave door. A cloud of smoke erupted and she coughed loudly. Using her oven mitts, she managed to pull out a plate of charred potatoes wrapped in soot-covered aluminum foil.

"What is this supposed to be, poop?" Natsume snorted.

"Potatoes," Mikan glared at him.

"I'm not gonna eat that, woman. I don't wish to meet Grim Reaper so early. Like I said, let's just eat out."

"You're paying." Mikan folded her arms across her chest.

"Fine, as long as I don't have to eat that..." Natsume's red eyes trailed to the plate. "Poop."

"It's not poop, damn you!"

"Fine, it's a lump of shit." Natsume's lips twitched.

"I hate you."

"You know you love me."

"You know that's bullshit."

"You know your potatoes look like shit."

"Shut up! You don't make any sense!"

* * *

><p>And that's how the two of them ended up in a booth with plushy cushions, sipping champagne. Mikan twirled a sliver of chestnut curls and tried not to think of what happened when they went to a restaurant the other time.<p>

"This is so awkward," Mikan mumbled as she fiddled with her utensils.

Natsume stared straight at her, his blood-red eyes boring into her skull. "Why'd you get engaged to him?"

"That again?" she scowled, shifting around in her seat. She felt as though his eyes were piercing right through her soul, seeing everything. "Well, because I love him?"

Crap, that came out wrongly.

"I mean, I love him," she tried again.

"He's not worth it. I can tell you that," Natsume grimaced.

Mikan felt her blood boil. How dare he? Reo was her first love and a perfect boyfriend any girl could possibly ask for. He was caring, he was sweet, he was handsome... but maybe a little too friendly with other girls sometimes, but so what? That was just because he was so charming. Mikan should be proud of him, proud to have a boyfriend like him.

"He's perfect."

"I can tell you he's far from being perfect," Natsume said darkly. Mikan frowned slightly as his eyes clouded over with... something. There was something that he was hiding behind those eyes.

"How so?" Mikan challenged.

The supermodel shook his head. "Ignorance is bliss."

Hah! Trying to be all deep and profound? Not a chance, playboy. Not a chance. Mikan pushed her chair back and stood up, glaring at the man in front of her.

"I'm gonna go if you're not telling me."

Natsume was as still as a statue of a Greek god. He cupped his chin in his hands and stared at Mikan's empty chair. She clenched her fists tightly. What kind of jerk was he? Why did he have such sudden mood swings? PMS, much? Defiantly, Mikan picked up her bag.

"Well, thank you for the lovely dinner, but I'm afraid I have to go," she gave Natsume a tight, you're-an-asshole-and-you-know-it smile before stalking off, praying to God that she did not do something stupid like trip over her heels or walk into a wall. But everyone knew life was unfair. Oh, boy, it was. No sooner had she spun around and walked across the restaurant, her head held high, than she slammed right into a waiter carrying a tray. The waiter let out an 'oof' and lost his balance, sending the two plates on the tray flying. _Crash. Splat. _The white porcelain dishes smashed into a million shards on the floor and the food— salmon tartar and foie gras— went sailing into the air before landing with huge plops on the floor, and unfortunately, some in Mikan's perfectly styled hair.

By now, _everyone _in the restaurant was gaping at Mikan like she was some kind of crazy, naked lunatic wielding a couple of swords and threatening to chop off everyone's heads. Blood rushed to her cheeks and tainted them a deep ruby.

"What the fuck? Mikan?" she heard someone gasp. She glanced up, cheeks boiling, and met the eyes of...

Reo Mouri.

"Reo?" Mikan choked out. He looked, as usual, handsome. However, he was not effortlessly handsome like Natsume, who could wear a freaking skirt and still made it look as though it just came off some magazine. Reo, on the other hand, could spend a couple of hours fussing over what to wear, how to style his copper-colored hair and which cologne to spray on. He always looked impeccable, like he just stepped off an Armani ad. Well, of course he did, thanks to the hours he spent on his appearance. Natsume though, looked kind of rumpled and messy and sexy... far from Reo's flawless, groomed look.

Mikan mentally bitch-slapped herself. Here she was, sprawled on the floor with salmon and foie gras in her hair, being the center of attention— not in a good way, mind you—, looking at her bewildered fiance and all she could think of was that stupid, anal-retentive man. Who was also undoubtedly sexy. Urgh!

Mikan's eyes trailed over to Reo's companion, whom she didn't even realize was sitting there across her fiance, looking perfectly at ease. It was a gorgeous woman with straight dirty-blond hair reaching almost to her waist. She had big hazel eyes, lined with long, dark lashes and was clad in a white button-up shirt that was a tad too small and a black pencil skirt. Mikan's gaze dropped to her chest, where it appeared that what her shirt concealed was a very well-endowed bust. Her cheeks flushed even more, something which she thought was impossible, when she thought of her own, flat-as-a-runway chest.

"Hello there," the woman smiled kindly at Mikan, which surprised her. She'd thought she would be bitchy and probably say something mean and snarky like 'nice hair'. She offered Mikan a slightly tanned, smooth hand and the tiny rhinestones on her nails sparkled in the light. Mikan returned a shy smile of her own and gripped the woman's hand, hauling herself to her feet.

Remembering the situation she was in, she turned to the poor waiter who was still on the floor, his trouser-clad leg in an awkward position. She helped the waiter up and apologized frantically.

"I am so sorry! I'm sorry! What could I possibly do to salvage this mess?" she gazed at the waiter, her eyes sincere.

He blushed slightly. "Um, it's okay, really."

"No, it isn't!" Mikan insisted.

"It really is. Thank you for your offer, miss, but it really is okay. No harm done." He flashed her polite smile before scampering off quickly, no doubt to get help to clean up the mess on the floor.

When the mess was cleaned up and everyone had gone back to their business, Mikan looked awkwardly at Reo and the pretty blonde.

"Oh, do join us!" The blonde smiled prettily, revealing two rows of gleaming white teeth. "I'm sure Mr. Mouri here won't mind, would he?"

"Of course not," Reo said, his voice sounding a little strange. Mikan could have sworn she saw something flash in his eyes. Annoyance? Anger?

"Come on, have a seat!" Blondie waved a manicured hand, sending Reo a look.

"Yeah, do join us, Mikan," Reo said, his voice sounding more normal now. He gave her a smile that did not quite touch his amethyst eyes. "This is my... boss, Shina."

"Hello, Mikan, right? I'm Shina Koizumi. Reo and I came out for dinner after we finished a huge meeting, no harm done, is there?" Shina winked, and Reo gave a little bark of laughter.

"Of course not, I trust Reo. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get going. Enjoy your dinner!" Mikan grinned. Oh yeah, like she would stay and listen to them drone about boring business-y stuff while she had globs of food in her hair, and possibly being stared by a certain someone's crimson eyes...

Hastily, she made her way to the glass door, making sure that she did not bump into any more poor waiters. At the last minute, she glanced back over her shoulder to see if a certain someone with bright red eyes was staring at her. However, she caught sight of something that made her throat tighten. Something that must have been her imagination. Something that would never happen. Something that must be her eyes playing tricks on her.

That something was the fact that a certain copper-haired man with purple eyes was leaning across the table and kissing a pretty, busty blonde.

* * *

><p>Okay, I'm not going to bother with long author's notes since I know nobody reads them anyway. :P Review!<p> 


	6. His Story

**Author's Note: **_Reply to xoxo12 and everyone else with the same thoughts:_

Hi, thanks for reading iLove and HOH! Hopefully, the future chapters will live up to your expectations. :) Yes, I admit I am, like, incapable of writing long chapters. I will try my best though. As for not updating sooner, I'm sorry. I admit that 5 chapters in 9 months is pretty pathetic. :/

The main reason is that I'm busy with damned school.

And sometimes I suffer from writer's block.

Sometimes I don't feel like writing because I don't know if people appreciate it (I had only 1 review for chapter 4) :(

However, I won't stop writing this story, so don't worry! Now that school holidays are here, I should be able to update pretty frequently. I updated so quickly, right? Mwahahaha. Well, that is, until January next year. Thank you for your support and understanding! :) I apologize for the long ramble.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA.

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 6: His Story  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>'Yo, Reo here. Dude, I've got people and stuff to do, y'know? I can't always be on the stupid phone and answer stupid calls. Leave me a message after the beep, and if you're lucky, I'll get back to you, man. Beep.'<em>

Mikan slammed down the landline, frustrated. It was the eleventh time she'd called that darned man and that stupid, egoistical message and that stupid beep was what had answered her for the eleventh time.

"Gosh, Mikan. I'm going to have to send you an invoice if that phone stops working," Hotaru said, looking up blankly from the financial magazine that she was perusing.

"I saw him freaking kiss another girl!" Mikan almost screamed.

The first thing that popped into Hotaru's mind was 'Dump him, I've never liked him anyway'. However, she had learned the hard way that it was not the best thing to say. When Mikan had her first boyfriend whazzisname, and the two had broken up, Hotaru said the same words to her. Never did she know that they would get back together three days later, and Mikan had told him that Hotaru'd said that he was a pompous dick and that she had never liked him. The malicious glares that he had sent Hotaru were far from pleasant, not that Hotaru cared. She was _the_ Hotaru Imai, for God's sake. Still, she had been so happy when whazzisname and Mikan had broken up for good that she had popped some Dom Pérignon to celebrate.

Before Hotaru could think of another witty comment to make, the phone rang.

"Oh, so now he's calling," Mikan huffed as she picked up the phone.

Here we go again... Hotaru rolled her eyes.

"Hey, you fudging little twit," Mikan snarled. "I would have thought that your balls were chewed off by that little blonde slut. You finally grew some more balls and called me, huh? Why, I wonder? Don't you wanna save your energy to screw that little Barbie?"

"Whoa, chill, woman. It's me." Okay, that was definitely not Reo. His voice was not as sexy as this one...

"Natsume Hyuuga?" Mikan screeched.

"Um, yeah," he sounded as though he was trying to hold back his laughter. "I need a favor from you."

"Why the hell would I do you a favor?" Mikan scowled.

"Because you kicked me in my crotch, made me infertile and are now my slave?"

The brunette groaned, as though she was in pain. "You stupid witch. Where the hell are you now?

* * *

><p>As Mikan strode down the path that led to Natsume's mansion, she could not help admiring the lush garden, overflowing with a wide array of exotic flora.<p>

_Ding dong. _The door bell chimed as Mikan hesitantly pressed it. A few seconds later, the door was opened by a... girl-version of Natsume. No, really! The petite girl had the same shiny raven hair, only hers was jaw-length and slightly tidier than Natsume's unruly hair. Her eyes were also bright scarlet, except that they seemed a little more... dull and clouded. Her mouth, although as perfect as Natsume's, were curled into a sweet smile and not a sour scowl or smirk.

"Hello there." Her voice was every bit as sweet as her face was. "Who are you looking for?"

"N-Natsume," Mikan replied, looking curiously at the girl.

"_Onii-chan__! _There's a girl looking for you!" she hollered. To Mikan, she said warmly, "Come on in, miss."

Still slightly stunned, Mikan stepped inside the house. It looked as posh as ever. _Brother._ Natsume had a sister, and she didn't even know that. A loud thud shocked her out of her reverie. To her horror, Natsume's sister was sprawled on the carpeted floor, and a small, round table with one twisty, spindly leg was lying on her back, pushing her down.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Mikan hurried to help her up, but loud, anxious footsteps were thundering down the spiral staircase. Natsume ran past Mikan towards his sister in a blur of black hair and manly cologne.

"Aoi! Aoi! You all right?" Mikan had never heard him sound so anxious and panicky before. Even on interviews, being bombarded with questions targeted towards his scandals, he always sounded ice-cool and composed. But here he was— supermodel, famous heartthrob— looking as though his kitten had been murdered, hunched over his sister and prying the fancy little table off her.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine, bro. Don't get your panties in a twist," she choked out jokily. Mikan could have laughed if she wasn't feeling so fidgety.

Natsume pulled Aoi to her feet. "I _told _you to be careful. And where's your cane?"

The girl brushed imaginary lint off her cashmere sweater and pouted, "I don't want to feel like an invalid."

"Aoi, it's for your own safety. This—" He turned around, and caught sight of Mikan, her eyes wide and bewildered. His eyebrows furrowed, as though he had only just realized that she was standing there.

"Oh, you're here," he said, his voice cold.

"H-Hi..." Mikan said stupidly, and she mentally face-palmed herself. How awkward could things get?

"You're gonna be late for your Braille lesson, Aoi. I'll get the chauffeur to take you there. You ready?" the supermodel said to his sister in a softer, gentler tone. Mikan could tell that he had a soft spot for his sister.

"Yep," Aoi replied cheerfully, holding up the denim tote bag in her hand.

"Got your cane?"

"Oh God, you're such a mother hen!" she huffed. "Yes, it's in here."

"Miss Aoi! Let's go!" a male voice called from the front door.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Aoi called back. "Bye, bro." She stood on her tiptoes, felt around for her brother's face with her pale, smooth hands and then planted a quick peck on his cheek. "See ya later."

She quickly moved to the front door, but not before throwing Mikan a brilliant smile. As soon as the door was closed behind Aoi's back, Mikan blurted out, "She's your sister?"

"No, she's my clone who happens to have boobs," Natsume scoffed. "What else?"

"She's blind?" Mikan stared at him.

He let out a frustrated sigh and raked a tanned, calloused hand through his thick hair. "Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Of course not!" Mikan exclaimed. "I was just surprised. I didn't know that."

"Yeah, yeah. Now that you know it, are you going to write some stupid snarky, humiliating article in your column?" Natsume snapped, his eyes blazing.

"No, of course not!" the gossip columnist choked out, surprised at his hostility and over-protectiveness of his sister.

"Look, I see a word about Aoi in your column and you're going to wish that you never popped out of your mommy's womb, you got it? She's a good kid; she doesn't need the aggravation. She doesn't _need _the attention. She doesn't need fucking reporters harassing her." Mikan could see in his eyes that there was something he was not telling her though.

"God, I've got it! I swear that I'll not write about what I saw today, okay?"

"Good."

"What happened to her?" Mikan blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity.

"Just drop it, okay?" he growled, pain visible in his fuchsia-colored eyes.

"No, I won't, unless you tell me," she said stubbornly.

"You..." Mikan suddenly felt a little scared. The expression in his eyes looked as though he was going to kill someone. The brunette started wondering wildly whether she'd gone too far. She felt around in the pockets of her floral-print shorts surreptitiously for anything that could serve as a weapon. Her fingers ran across a sweet wrapper, an elastic hair tie and her phone. Perfect. She could wallop him on the head if he tried to kill her... She hauled out her phone and clutched it tightly in her hand.

Suddenly, the I-want-to-kill-someone aura in his eyes died and the ruby orbs turned duller. He ran his hand through his hair again, making it stick out even more, but still managing to make it look sexy.

"R..." he hesitated.

Mikan looked at him earnestly, prompting him to go on.

"Reo Mouri did this to her," Natsume finally spit out.

Mikan's fingers suddenly turned wobbly. Her Samsung Galaxy S2 slipped out of grasp and tumbled onto the floor with a soft thud. _Thank God the floor is carpeted, _she thought in the back of her mind.

"W-What? How is that possible?" Mikan's voice sounded like gravel. She didn't even bother retrieving her phone. Let it enjoy its date with the floor, anyway.

"That motherfucker," Natsume ground out. Mikan noticed that his fists were clenched tight beside his jean-clad thigh. His eyes shone with hurt, pain. "That motherfucker! He _did _this to Aoi. He ruined her future." He was trembling now— this strong, manly looking, 6'1 package of hard muscles and impossibly large ego— and his fists were clenched tighter than ever. Mikan reached out and touched his shoulder gently, hesitantly.

"There, there. It's fine, Natsume." She had never seen him so angry, yet so vulnerable before. She got to see many faces of Natsume Hyuuga today, and she was okay with that. She was, in fact, glad that he had opened up to her, shown her sides that she knew with confidence he had never shown to anyone else before.

He looked at her, his eyes seemingly searing into her soul. She noticed that his eyelashes were long enough to make any woman jealous. The kind of eyelashes that her mother always said were totally wasted on guys who had them.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're not going to believe me anyway. You'll defend that bastard."

"No, I won't. I believe you, Natsume. So tell me, please," Mikan begged, her voice soft.

There was a moment's silence before he continued. "Reo Mouri, he went out with my sister four years ago. Aoi was, like, frigging, hopelessly in love with that prick. He was her first love, first boyfriend, y'know? I always thought that the prick was kind of fishy, but for Aoi's sake, I pretended that everything was fine. They got engaged. On her birthday, she went to Mouri's house, with a cake she baked and everything, to surprise him. She was hoping that they'd have a wonderful time eating cake and watching some sappy movie together, all that shit, you know? But what did she see instead when she went into the house? That fucker, screwing some girl against the kitchen counter. He didn't even have the decency to lock the door."

Mikan swallowed a golf ball-sized lump that had formed in her throat painfully.

"Aoi went berserk. She started screaming and throwing things at him, but all he did was to look up from the other girl's tits and tell Aoi to get lost, that he had never loved her, that everything he said was just a ploy to get her into bed. That it was just a game, that he had always been screwing around behind Aoi's back and that Aoi was... Anyway, he said a shitload of crap. Aoi was, well, needless to say, heartbroken. She'd put in her heart and soul into this relationship for four frigging years and what did she end up with? Mouri and that bitch got dressed and went out, but not before saying some shit to Aoi. She sat there for a while... an hour at least, crying, screaming. Then she got into her car; it was pouring outside. But her mind was whirling with all that shit and she crashed..." Natsume swallowed, sinking down onto the carpet.

Mikan sat down next to him, her own body shuddering.

"She crashed into a car. Whose car? Bloody Reo Mouri and that bitch's, as karma would have it. And why? Because those fuckers had been... let's just say, doing some hanky-panky stuff, shall we? They didn't even get charged, because Aoi didn't want any fuss. And I know she still loved that asshole despite everything, so she just said that she was mentally unstable and shit. But was the prick grateful? Not a bit. Anyway, she hit her head and messed up her nerves and turned blind... yeah. Thank God she woke up from that coma, though. I'll _never _forget that asshole, Reo Mouri."

So that was why he had gotten so defensive and angry when he'd met Reo, when Mikan had announced that they were engaged. She winced at the thought, about how harsh she was at that time. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. She was crying for Aoi, for Natsume, for _herself. _How stupid could she be? Reo was just a stupid, playing bastard, fucking heartbreaker. Natsume's thumb rubbed gently across her cheeks, taking away her tears.  
>She blinked in surprise, and sucked in a breath. That touch had felt as though someone had electric shocked her.<p>

"There. Now, I said I have a favor to ask of you?" Natsume stood up quickly, removing his thumb from Mikan's face, suddenly brisk and business-like.

"Y-Yeah..." Wow, that phone call felt like a million years ago.

"I need you to be a model for today," Natsume smirked, all traces of the hurt and agony from before wiped from his face.

Mikan appreciated his efforts in changing the topic. It was too personal, too sensitive, too hurtful to dig out the dirty past. But what she did not appreciate was his so-called favor.

"What? MODEL?"

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><p>Um, review please? :) As a reward for updating so soon, and having a (I think) long chapter? :P HAHAHA, I'm shameless, elle oh elle. :))<p> 


	7. Hole in One

**Author's Note: **_To 'Guest': _Hey, chill your pants! Of course I'm going to continue this story, and I'll update as soon as I can. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 7: Hole in One**

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><p>"Model? Okay, you're seriously nuts."<p>

"I thought I was a fruit." One corner of Natsume's mouth hitched up, leaving Mikan almost breathless at his god-like, sexy half-grin.

"You're nuts and fruits," Mikan scowled, crossing her arms over her chest.

Natsume's gaze dropped to her chest. "You really shouldn't do that."

"Oh, really. You're not the boss of me," Mikan scowled even more.

"You're kinda squishing your boobs," Natsume admitted, without even having the grace to blush.

Mikan's cheeks flamed as red as Natsume's eyes and she dropped her arms to her sides as though her white chiffon top had suddenly caught fire. "Pervert!"

That just made the model grin even more sexily. "Now, we had better set off. Naru will be waiting for us," he commented as he checked his black Adidas watch.

After some persuasion and threats from the sexy black-haired man, Mikan followed him out to the garage, which held two cars- a black Porsche and a silver Jaguar. Natsume clicked on a button on a set of car keys, causing the silver luxury car to beep.

"Rich bastards," the brunette who had never come across such expensive cars apart from magazines muttered as she slid into the black leather seat. The car smelt of Natsume's masculine cologne, leather and Polo mints. It was a heavenly combination. Mikan ran a hand over the smooth leather of the seat, impressed.

"Must have cost a packet, huh?"

"Not really," Natsume replied cockily, slipping on a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes. He stuck his key in the ignition and turned it. Soon, the car shuddered and purred softly, coming to life.

Mikan decided not to say anything, because she was certain that she would only get arrogant and cocky answers. The whole car ride was pretty much silent, but not the kind of awkward silence. It was the pleasant, comfortable one that settled over the pair. Natsume pressed a couple of buttons and the car was flooded with music.

"No way, you like Taylor Swift?" Mikan exclaimed as the familiar tune of _Love Story _by the country singer began to flood the Jaguar.

"Yeah, kind of. Don't tell anyone though," Natsume gave a half-smile, as though sharing a secret with her.

"I love her!" Mikan gushed. "She is so awesome. _And I said Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone..." _

"Dude, stop singing, you suck at it," the driver complained.

_"__You'll be the prince, and I'll be the princess..." _Mikan sang louder to irk Natsume, earning a death glare from him.

Ten minutes later, Natsume was muttering under his breath, "Thank God we're here. I don't think I'll be able to stand another minute of _We're Never Ever Getting Back Together." _He raised his voice by an octave, singing in a screechy voice that was supposedly an imitation of Mikan.

He parked the car perfectly and exited it, glad to escape Mikan's cries of indignation. She stepped out, still grumbling under her breath. Natsume was walking towards a building, and Mikan hurried after him, almost tripping over her wedge shoes. He slowed down his long-legged, lazy amble to allow the breathless brunette to catch up with him.

"We're doing a fashion show later," Natsume announced suddenly as they approached the building. "For Prada. We were short of a model, so I said you'd do it."

Mikan was so busy hyperventilating that she did not take in her surroundings.

"What? Fashion show? Prada?" she screeched, incredulous. "I'm not a frigging model! Why can't you get another model to do it?"

"I wanted to see you look good," Natsume responded. "Now shut up."

"I took a sick leave today, I'm supposed to recuperate at home, not do some stupid show! What if someone from the _Chronicles _covers this event and sees me on the runway, huh?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, girl," Natsume drawled lazily. "Look, we're here."

Mikan looked up and saw a huge room with a raised, long platform running through its middle. The room was dark, but the lights on the walkway helped to give it a little light, creating a romantic ambience.

"It's just for one night, and you'll get paid. It's a once in a lifetime experience. You think they'll accept any Tom, Dick or Harry out there to walk for Prada? It's because they were desperate for a female model your size, and because _I _recommended you," Natsume continued as he led her to a door at the back. They entered, and were met with chaos. Racks of clothes lined the room, and vanity tables piled high with make-up, wigs and what-nots lined the opposite side. Beautiful models were rushing around, doing their make-up, borrowing mascara from another model, doing God-knows-what. However, everyone took extra caution around the clothes hanging on the racks, and whenever someone bumped into someone carrying a dress, the someone would scream at the other person.

"The clothes are really important, you can't afford to destroy them," Natsume explained, following Mikan's awed gaze. He looked extremely at ease and if Mikan didn't know better, she would have thought that he was in Starbucks, drinking a cup of hot chocolate. Mmm... "They're the newest pieces, and this _is _Prada."

A blonde-haired male- or was it female?- flounced towards both of them. He was dressed weirdly, to say the least. He had on a purple velvet hat trimmed with lace in a paler shade of purple on top of his blonde curls, a matching velvet jacket over a ruffled white shirt and purple trousers. He was twirling a paper fan in his hand.

"Natsume-kuuuun, you're here!" His purple eyes twinkled. "This is the replacement model?" He gestured towards Mikan, who gave him a shy smile.

"Yeah," he replied with a nod, seemingly immune to the blonde's enthusiasm and bubbly mood.

"She looks fine to me, just needs a little polishing here and there!" He nodded knowingly, looking at Mikan from head-to-toe, as though she were an alien from Mars. She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Come over here, honey, and walk across here. Do the best that you can." He gave her a little wink.

Dutifully, Mikan did as she was said.

"Wonderful! Not the best, not perfect, but it will do. No one will really notice a bit of flaw, eh?" the blonde winked again. "We're glad you accepted on such a short notice. The model who was supposed to walk in place of you tonight came down with the chicken pox. Those awful red polka dots!" He shuddered.

"Natsume!" another voice, more feminine this time, called out. A figure dashed across towards Natsume, earning indignant cries from the other models. The girl looked about Natsume's age, if not a year younger or so. Her strawberry-blonde hair was fluffed up perfectly, flowing down to the middle of her back in a stylish mess of blonde tresses, and a sparkling headband sat atop her head. Her eyes were the color of the sky- a bright, ice blue, and framed with long, dark lashes. Her full lips were complimented by the blood-red lipstick slicked across them. She was dressed in a sparkling, silver dress and three-inch platform shoes.

_Another irritating fangirl. Natsume'll definitely be pissed as shit, _Mikan thought smugly, expecting Natsume to push the overly-enthusiastic blonde away.

"Hey, Luna, how's it going?" Natsume ruffled her hair affectionately, which made Mikan almost gasp out in surprise and horror.

"Same old, same old," Luna waved a perfectly-manicured hand. "Koko was talking about meeting up with us and the old gang yesterday, you up for it?"

"I'll think about it, yeah?"

Luna nodded, as though satisfied with his answer.

"Oh, this is Mikan Sakura, my slave," Natsume introduced suddenly, as though just realizing that Mikan was standing there awkwardly. "Mikan, this is Luna Koizumi, my friend."

Luna pouted, seemingly unhappy about being addressed as a 'friend'.

"Slave?" the blonde echoed, her eyes narrowed as she stared at Mikan. "That sounds... kinky, doesn't it? You two aren't in some kind of relationship, are you?"

"Who are you, my mother?" Natsume rolled his eyes. "She's the one who kicked me in the balls, remember?"

Luna giggled. "Oh, yeah." To Mikan, she said in a sickly sweet voice, "Mikan, do take good care of Natsume, all right? He's a _very, very_ good friend of mine."

Mikan swallowed and managed to say, "Sure."

Luna waved goodbye to her precious Natsume and planted a long kiss on his cheek, near his mouth. Mikan swallowed yet another golf ball that had somehow materialized in her throat.

"Narumi, which dress is Mikan-chan wearing? And shoes?" Luna flitted over to Natsume's manager and inquired in a sweet, innocent voice. She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Why?"

"Well, since she's new. I thought I would bring her dress to her, show her the ropes, tell her all the basic stuff and help her zip up the back, all that stuff." Luna smiled, twirling a strand of red-gold hair. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Nah, of course not. You're experienced, darling. I trust you. Here, it's this dress." Narumi grinned and thrust a fancy white dress on a hanger at her. He bustled around and finally returned with a shoebox containing a pair of matching high heels.

Her eyes hardened. "She's wearing this?" Luna had wanted to wear this dress. She had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it hanging on the rack. It was beautiful, elegant, cool and quirky all at once, and Luna thought it expressed her personality perfectly. It would fit her curves perfectly too. And now that bitch- that newbie- not only wanted to steal her Natsume, but her dress too! Luna plucked the dress from Narumi's hand. "I'll bring it to her, Naru."

When Narumi had flounced away to find a lost shoe for a model, Luna carried the dress and shoes to the bathroom surreptitiously, but not before grabbing a couple of essential items from her bag and stuffing them into her black lacy La Perla bra. Good thing that everyone was caught up doing their own stuff- straightening and curling hair, applying make-up, the lot. She shut the door behind her and locked it. Luna pulled out the small pair of scissors she had kept hidden in her bra and removed the plastic cover. (hello? She didn't want the silicone in her boobs to leak out or something)

She snipped a huge hole in the midriff of the dress, with the scissors opening and closing with cold, crisp snips. Satisfied with her handicraft, she lay down the destroyed dress and picked up the shoes. She retrieved a packet of itching powder from the other cup of her bra and sprinkled it into the shoes.

A smile licked across her full lips. "Mikan Sakura, you're going down."

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><p>I typed most of this on my phone (not the easiest thing) so there might be spellinggrammar errors. I haven't proof-read, so sorry if there errors. Review!


	8. Knight in Shining Prada

**Author's Note:** _To Guest: I know how Aoi went blind in the manga; I've read all the chapters available online. This is, however, a fanfiction, and an AU one at that. And Persona is not likely going to appear in this story, too. So yeah. Cheers. :)_

And I'm sorry if this chapter sucks and is totally disappointing. I accidentally closed the tab and half the chapter I typed disappeared, and I was totally pissed when I finished this. :'( *cries*_  
><em>

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 8: Knight in Shining Prada**

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><p>"Open your eyes."<p>

"Close your eyes."

"Look up."

"Oh, honey, your hair is a disaster."

Mikan gritted her teeth and dutifully did as what the make-up-cum-hair artist said. As the skinny woman attacked Mikan's face with globs of make-up, brushes and spidery looking false eyelashes, a flash of strawberry-blonde hair whizzing past caught her attention. Mikan started wondering who exactly Luna was. Why wasn't Natsume disgusted by her overly affectionate actions? It wasn't as if Mikan was jealous. Okay, not _exactly. _But still, she had felt a little bit special that Natsume, the famous supermodel spent time with her and in fact seemed to enjoy it. Mentally smacking herself, she remembered that Natsume was a notorious playboy who charmed and flirted with everyone who had boobs and bled every month. She felt a little twinge of something that felt suspiciously like jealousy, and quickly forced herself to remember all the scandals Natsume had gotten himself in. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Dumping a woman in Starbucks, caught with his pants down in a department store's fitting room...

Somehow, those things only made her stomach lurch even more.

"Honey, we're done," the make-up artist said as she spritzed another cloud of hairspray at Mikan's hair with a flourish.

Mikan opened one eye and then the other cautiously, as though afraid that she had been turned into a clown with rainbow-colored hair and a red nose. She saw her eyes widen in the mirror. A beautiful woman stared back at her from the shiny mirror. It looked like her, but yet it didn't at the same time. Her brown eyes looked huge and bright, and her lips looked extremely kissable in pretty pink lip gloss. Her tawny hair was piled on top of her head in a chic mess and a small silver tiara sat on top of her head.

"You look wonderful, dear. Now go put on your dress and you will look even more ravishing," the make-up artist said encouragingly.

Mikan flashed her a smile and said thank you before hopping off the leather swathed seat, feeling her thighs tingle slightly from where her skin was stuck to the material. She made her way over to Natsume, who was being worked on by another make-up artist.

"Hey, what dress will I be wearing?" Mikan hissed.

Natsume lifted his gaze from the magazine on his lap and looked at Mikan. His Adam's apple slid up and down the length of his throat.

"You look different," he commented casually.

"Is that a compliment or what?" Mikan scowled.

"Yeah," Natsume flashed a heart-stopping grin. "Go check with Naru. He's that gay blonde from earlier. In those hideous purple rags? That's him."

Mikan bit back a giggle and ambled over to Narumi.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Your dress is there, the white, long one. On that chair." He pointed a long finger to a plastic white chair. "Your shoes are here." He walked over to one of the many shoe racks and selected a pair of pretty white heels. He handed them to Mikan gingerly.

"Be careful with the clothes and shoes, dear. And didn't Luna bring them to you earlier?" A little frown appeared on his lady-like face.

"Luna?" Mikan's brows creased. "No."

"Ah, I must be mixing things up. Things are so crazy around here!" Narumi laughed it off and darted away to a woman with waist-length blonde hair who was screaming something at him.

Mikan tilted her head , confusion clouding her mind, but she quickly pushed it away and walked over to the chair. She picked up a folded pile of white material. She made her way over to the dressing room and drew the black velvety curtain. She unfolded the dress. It was beautiful. It was knee-length, which was slit in such a way that it gradually became longer towards the back. Mikan flipped it around. That was when her stomach rolled. The croissant she had consumed for breakfast threatened to rise up and spill on the floor. Mikan poked a finger in the humongous hole in the silky smooth material of the dress and inhaled sharply.

What the heck was she supposed to do?

"Who's in there? Hurry up, Risa wants us to assemble in five," a feminine voice called out.

Mikan squeaked out, "Okay."

But it was not okay. It was far from okay. Natsume's voice rang in her head, "The clothes are really important, you can't afford to destroy them". She griped the dress tightly, her heart almost leaping out of her chest and blood throbbing in her head.

For the first time in Mikan's life, she wished she could sew. She always thought sewing was silly and a granny's hobby, not something a twenty-plus year old girl should pick up. Honestly, if she could go back in time, she would shoot her old self in the head and shove the destroyed Prada dress down her throat.

Perhaps she could borrow a jacket and cover up the hole. It was a brilliant idea, but Mikan was pretty sure the designers did not want to cover the elaborate and beautiful neckline and the exquisite details on the whole torso of the dress itself. Ugh.

Maybe she could wear the part with the hole at the back? It could pass off as a badly done, backless dress. Who knows, it might even become a trend! Mikan always scorned at some stupid, ridiculous numbers she saw on fashion shows but apparently no fashion expert thought that there was anything wrong with those dresses.

The long, sweeping train shattered Mikan's brilliant idea. Who the heck would put a three feet long train in front of a dress, while the back was knee-length? Mikan's breath started coming in short, raspy chokes and she felt cold and clammy. The hand that was clutching the dress turned white from the lack of blood flow.

"Oi, is it you in there? Hurry up," a deep, sexy voice said. Natsume!

Mikan quickly pulled open the curtain and hissed for Natsume to come in. He was already clad in a cool grey suit that accentuated his broad, manly shoulders and flat torso. Sunglasses were balanced on his flawless nose.

"What?" He sounded irritated as he folded his arms across his perfect chest, causing his biceps to bulge in a _very _attractive way.

"T-The dress," Mikan cried, holding up the destroyed dress with trembling hands. Tears were already starting to form in her eyes, and she could only hope that she was wearing water-proof make-up.

"What the fuck?" Natsume choked out, his eyes unreadable behind the dark lenses. His lips pursed into a thin line.

"It wasn't my fault! It was already like this when I brought it in!" Mikan's lower lip trembled. "What am I supposed to do?"

A blanket of silence settled over the duo. Natsume pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his face. "Jesus."

"Whoever is in there, hurry up! Be out here in five minutes or I'll go in personally to drag you out!" a female voice screamed from outside, breaking the silence.

When the footsteps faded away, Natsume ran his hand through his tousled hair one last time and said in a hard voice, "Okay. Okay. Put on the dress and shoes. I'll take care of the rest."

Mikan nodded hastily, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. For reasons unfathomable she felt at ease with Natsume around, as though he was Spider Man and she was Mary Jane hanging on a tilting building, and she could count on him to save her. He was a player, for God's sake. Not a miracle worker. But for now, Mikan could only push aside her opinions of Natsume and trust him. She waited in expectant silence for Natsume to get out.

"What?" he frowned, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm _changing,_" Mikan pointed out.

"I know."

"I'm a girl."

"Oh. Hurry up," Natsume said blankly, as though only just registering that Mikan was in fact a woman.

He went out, and Mikan quickly stepped into the dress.

"Help me zip it!" she whisper-yelled at Natsume.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he grumbled, pulling the curtain apart and stepping in.

He pulled up the zip at the back of the dress, and when Mikan turned around, he did a double take. A warm blush spread over his cheeks and he could only hope that Mikan was too distressed to notice.

"Your dress," he muttered, gesturing to the gaping hole. Mikan glanced down and gasped. Her _bra _was showing. Her frayed white cotton bra with pink polka-dots that she only wore when she didn't do her laundry for weeks and had nothing else to wear was showing. Her entire stomach was exposed. She flushed.

"It's okay, trust me," Natsume assured, sensing her panic.

Mikan nodded numbly as she slipped on her shoes. What else could she do? Natsume took off his jacket and passed it to Mikan.

"Cover up first," he instructed.

Mikan nodded again and slipped on the too-big jacket, inhaling Natsume's scent and expensive cologne. She followed him to the crowd of gorgeous, glamorous models waiting.

"There you are!" A stern woman with graying brown hair and a wrinkled face barked at Mikan. Her gaze softened when it shifted to the gorgeous male model standing beside her.

"Mikan Sakura will be the last girl to walk, after Luna, and Natsume-kun will go next. He's the first one for the male collection," she said, subtly fluttering her spider-legs eyelashes at Natsume.

Luna's gaze flitted over to the pair and took in Mikan's jacket. Mikan could have sworn she saw a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

"Mikan, you can't wear that jacket! You'll cover that _lovely _dress!" she grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"She's cold, and I offered to lend her that. She'll be ready for the show," Natsume replied crisply, before turning to the stern woman and leading her to one side. He started whispering, flirting, winking, and Mikan saw the old bat's face turn bright red. She was giggling like a teenager. Mikan turned away, feeling her stomach churn and bile rise up her throat. Well, obviously Natsume flirted anywhere, any time and with anyone. Even a crabby old twit.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the show tonight!" A loud, booming voice sounded from the stage, and Mikan's stomach rolled. She still had no idea what the hell Natsume was planning.

Before long, the models were strutting out one by one, showing off their gorgeous, princess-like dresses. It was going to be Mikan's turn in no time. Mikan grimaced as another wave of nausea passed her.

"Take off the jacket," Natsume whispered in Mikan's ear, sending shivers of delight down her body. She ignored it and quickly unbuttoned the jacket as she turned around to face Natsume so that her exposed stomach would be hidden from view. He passed her a huge bouquet of silk roses he was carrying.

''What's up?" Mikan whispered back as Natsume's arms wrapped around her, shielding her.

"Trust me," he replied, his voice confident and arrogant again. He was back to the Natsume that she knew. The cocky, smart-ass, I'm-sexier-than-you-and-I-know-it Natsume. Mikan grinned in spite of herself, clutching the flowers to herself.

When Luna strutted back, she threw a lazy smile in Mikan's way and walked away. The emcee announced something, but Mikan was way too panicky to care.

"Go!" the stern woman nudged Natsume gently, her bony fingers staying on Natsume's shoulder longer than necessary.

Before she knew it, Natsume had swept Mikan off her feet and was carrying her bridal-style.

"Hold the flowers to hide the hole, just the hole and not the neckline," he murmured softly as he strode out to the walkway in a lazy, confident amble. Cameras flashed at them, almost blinding her. Reporters scribbled in notebooks frantically. Mikan held the flowers tighter to her chest. That, plus the fact that she was being carried this way, hid the hole perfectly. Moreover, the exquisite little details on the back of the dress could still be seen. It was enough, for now.

Almost. They had almost made it to the end. But Mikan should have known. Things never went smoothly without a hitch for her. When she was ten, she had finished one whole glass of beer her father left on the table at her birthday party, and all her friends were cheering and clapping, even that mean, smug and arrogant girl whom Mikan had only felt obliged to invite. Mikan felt like a hero. And then she heaved and vomited all over the table, and even got some onto the mean girl's Barbie-pink skirt.

Mikan's feet started itching like crazy. It was as though a million ant nests were residing in her shoes and crawling all around her feet, nipping at her feet.

"My feet..." she murmured, her lips hardly moving and her feet twitching wildly. "Oh, God. I can't... I have to scr—"

She shut up when Natsume tilted her body down slightly and covered her lips with his. The cameras seemed to flash more wildly, and the crowd started murmuring and mumbling.

"Shut up," he murmured against her lips. "We're almost there."

It felt so unreal Mikan wanted to laugh hysterically while banging her head against a door with a million shards of glass sticking out. Here she was, on a Prada walkway with a hole in her borrowed dress that probably cost as much as her annual salary, her feet itching like mad, a sexy, gorgeous man whom everyone with ovaries drooled over kissing her senseless with about a hundred _reporters _watching and snapping pictures frantically.

But yet all she could think of was Natsume's perfect lips on hers, tasting so, so delicious and sweet. Oh, yes. It was unreal all right.

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><p>Not proof-read. Review!<p> 


	9. Can't A Girl Get Some Peace?

**Author's Note: **Aren't One Direction's songs just catchy?!

P.S. School has started, so updates are going to be slow all over again. :( Sorry for the weird-ish chapter because I was feeling so dazed and everything and just wanted to update. Ha. Ha.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own GA.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 9: Can't A Girl Get Some Peace?**

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><p>Mikan walked into a changing room, still feeling dazed. She put two fingers to her just-been-kissed lips, her mind still whirling like the tornado that swept Dorothy to the Land of Oz. Natsume Hyuuga had kissed her! Let's get it straight— the most sought after, gorgeous male supermodel Natsume Hyuuga had just kissed Mikan Sakura, a little lowly gossip columnist in front of about a hundred people, at a fashion show that would be covered by just about all the magazines and newspapers. Smiling stupidly, Mikan pulled off her dress. That was when it hit her.<p>

Her dress was destroyed. The million-dollar, designer, branded, exclusive Prada dress. How was Mikan going to face all those people? Wincing, Mikan slipped into her oversized grey sweater and denim shorts. She wiped her feet with a couple of green-tea scented wet wipes to hopefully get rid of the itch and slipped into her comfortable flats. Feeling like a little kid reluctant to go to school on a Monday, she sheepishly stepped out of the small cubicle, the dress draped over her arm and the shoes at her feet.

As expected, the stern woman who seemed to be in charge of the whole fashion show was standing there expectantly, her bony arms crossed beneath her sagging breasts.

"What's this all about?" she barked. "Show me the dress!"

Flinching from the steel of her glare, Mikan passed over the dress.

"Jesus Christ!" the old woman exclaimed, a faint look passing over her wrinkled, papery face. She looked positively ill. A livid expression replaced the ill one almost immediately.

"What happened?" she hollered, brandishing the dress in front of Mikan's face. Steam was almost pouring out of her ears, and her face was literally crimson with rage. "How can you ruin the PRADA?" Her voice became a screech as she emphasized the brand's name.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry." Mikan swallowed, hollow with fear. "But please, you must believe me. It wasn't me who did this. I have no idea how it happened. It was already ripped when I collected it."

"Then who did this?" Crabby Witch shrieked. "Don't tell me, a rat chewed up the dress?"

By now, there was a small crowd of models surrounding them, watching the commotion with curious eyes. Most were snickering and whispering to one another.

"I... I don't think so," Mikan stammered. "It wasn't me, I swear! I bet someone put some kind of stuff into my shoes too, because my feet only itched when I put them on. I'm sure someone did this!"

Crabby Witch sucked in a long breath. "Don't push the blame to others!"

Mikan was honestly shaken and shocked by the elderly woman's fierce and totally terrifying demeanor when reprimanding someone. Weren't old women supposed to be kind and soft and gentle, baking blueberry pies and strawberry tarts in the kitchen? Well, Crabby Witch seemed like the kind to put _poison _in her pies and tarts.

"IT WASN'T ME!" Mikan bristled, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Now, now, Mikan. It's all right, we won't blame you. You can just admit that you accidentally ripped the dress." Luna Koizumi emerged from the crowd, her big blue eyes wide with innocence. She had already changed into her everyday clothes— a fuchsia body-con dress that clung to every impressive curve of her body— and looked as fabulous as ever. She tittered over to Crabby Witch and put a smooth hand on her shoulder.

"There, there, Miss Fuji," Luna said soothingly. "Calm down, all right? Being angry is not good for your health, nor your beautiful face."

_Beautiful face? _Mikan could have laughed out loud if it wasn't for the graveness of the matter.

Miss Fuji inhaled sharply, and her face turned a little less red. She gave Luna a tight smile. "Thank you, dear. You're the best."

The blonde flashed a smile at the old woman and turned back to Mikan. "Now, darling. It's just a dress, anyway. Well, it's a _Prada _dress which isn't even out for sale yet... and it's so exquisite and beautiful and expensive. But still, it's just a little dress." She sounded totally patronizing, and not at all sorry. In fact, she seemed a little too triumphant and gleeful. "I'll tell you what. How about you just compensate for the dress, and we'll let matters rest, hm?"

Weakly, Mikan asked, "How much?"

Luna smiled, put her full lips close to Mikan ears and whispered a long figure. Mikan felt faint, and almost fainted right there on the spot. She was suddenly grateful she was wearing flats, and not heels, or she would have toppled over and made herself an even bigger joke.

"How much is it again? I'll pay it for her," a masculine voice said. Mikan glanced up wearily, and there he was. Her knight in shining armor.

"Oh, Natsume-kun!" Luna laughed nervously. "It's Mikan-chan's fault, of course she should compensate for the dress herself! And you already saved her ass out there..." Her eyes flashed. "We should let her take a little responsibility, shouldn't we?"

"Save it," Natsume snapped. "We don't have time for this crap. I'll pay for it, and that's final. How much is it? Miss Fuji, I'll settle it."

Crabby Witch nodded without arguing, and led Natsume over to the door. When they disappeared through it, and the crowd slowly dispersed, Luna threw Mikan a scathing, dirty look. "Well, well, well. All you can do is to trouble Natsume-kun with your half-assed problems, huh? How pathetic."

She strode away, flipping her sleek strawberry-blonde hair and wiggling her bum. It seemed as though she had dropped all pretenses of being nice. Still feeling hollow, Mikan walked towards the door, ignoring all the whispers and stares directed at her. Luna was right. She only caused Natsume more trouble, when he was busy enough as it is. As she walked across the dark room, now empty of all the guests, she felt tears prick at her eyes. The unfairness, the guilt, the cold glares, Luna's snarky words were all getting to her.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," Mikan answered shortly, recognizing the familiar husky voice. She felt the tingles in her lips as she remembered the kiss.

''You're my slave. You can't go without telling me." Natsume stepped in front of her, his dark hair hanging in front of his eyes, making the expression in his eyes unreadable.

"I'm the worst slave ever to walk the face of Earth," Mikan laughed without humor, trying to hide her blushes behind her hair as the words 'lips' and 'kiss' popped into her brain. "I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't do it. It probably just got caught or something."

"Got caught? How do you explain the shoes then? The itching?" Mikan said wearily, looking away from Natsume's lips. She wondered how it would be like to kiss him now, in private. Then she mentally cussed herself for having those thoughts. Natsume clearly didn't feel that way, for God's sake. It was just to save her ass on stage, distract her from the itch. If she ruined the show, he would be in for shit too. Somehow, that thought hurt, just a little. That kiss meant so much to Mikan... but it clearly meant nothing to the supermodel.

"Maybe you have athlete's foot?" Natsume grinned slightly.

Mikan was in no mood to joke. She shook her head. "See you, Natsume. And thank you. For everything." And she got the hell out of there.

* * *

><p>Mikan was positive that there was something fishy about the whole dress and shoes case. Someone must have done it. As she nibbled on her croissant, she walked over to her office building. She finished the last mouthful and tossed the white paper bag into a bin.<p>

"Morning, J." She greeted the buff security guard, who gave her a grin in return. She entered the lift, brushed a speck of dust off her skirt.

"Oh, look! Natsume Hyuuga kissed some model on the walkway!" A young woman with red hair whom Mikan recognized as someone from Human Resources squealed to her friend.

Mikan gulped and turned to the woman, who was perusing a magazine. Oh, my God. It was on the cover. The goddamned _cover. Please don't let them recognize me... _Mikan prayed, furtively peering at the magazine.

"Lucky bitch!" The girl's anorexic-looking friend squeaked. "He's so hot..."

Her face was covered by Natsume's face. Thank _God. _

"Oh, here's a picture of the girl!" Red-Head whispered, pointing to a picture on one of the pages.

Oh _God. _There it was. A picture of Natsume carrying Mikan. Mikan's face on show, for everyone to see. Her face burning, Mikan quickly turned away, trying to hide her face. The lift pinged, and a relieved Mikan stumbled out and made her way to her cubicle. She tried to cover her face with her hair. Then, at last, she was slumped in her seat.

"Mikan!" Misaki Harada shrieked suddenly, sprinting up to her. "IT'S YOU! I KNEW IT WAS YOU!"

"It's _her? _Mikan Sakura?" a few other voices piped up.

"OH MY GOD! Natsume Hyuuga kissed you?" Misaki screeched, waving the magazine in front of Mikan's face.

"Erm, um... I..." Mikan stared at the faces all around her, staring expectantly at her. "Um... y-yeah. It was me."

A cacophony erupted. Girls squealed and screamed. Guys muttered under their breaths. Tsubasa Andou yelped, "You're stepping on my _feet, _Misaki! My bones!" People swarmed Mikan, begging her to get Natsume's autograph, begging her to get him to date her.

"I'm sorry!" Mikan gasped, unable to take it any more. She put her hands over her ears and hunched over her messy desk. Could this week get any worse? First, she caught her fiance with another woman. Second, Natsume Hyuuga kissed her and seemed to dismiss it as nothing. Third, she was accused of ripping a Prada dress and had to be humiliated by Miss Fuji and Luna. Now this. Couldn't a girl get some goddamned peace?

"It's Mikan Sakura!"

"Oh God, that lucky little shit..."

"Why the hell did he kiss her? She's not even that pretty..."

"Holy cow! Lucky bitch!"

"Who the hell is Natsume Hyuuga?"

"That sex God, duh."

The room finally came to a standstill when something was fired into the air with a loud bang. Hotaru stood in front of the door to the department, holding a starting pistol in her hand, looking totally emotionless. Everyone scrambled back to their seats. People who were ringing up their friends slammed down their phones. Mikan had to hand it to her best friend. Hotaru was completely amazing.

"Hello, everyone. I have an announcement to make." Hotaru paused for effect. "I'm resigning."

There was a collective gasp around the room. Mikan eyes just about popped out of their sockets. Surreptitiously, she glanced at the calender on her desk to check whether it was the first of April. It wasn't. But Hotaru had never mentioned this before.

"I'm going to be opening a restaurant with Ruka Nogi, the model." Double shock. There was another gasp.

"And you'll have a new boss. She has kindly joined us today, just to get to know you guys a little. She will be officially joining us tomorrow. Let's put our hands together and welcome..."

Everyone clapped loudly, and even let out little 'woohoos', but Mikan was far from cheering. Oh, no. She was positively sick. Because who the woman who walked into the room, looking drop-dead gorgeous, was a woman with long blonde hair reaching her waist, her big green eyes framed with long, dark lashes, her breasts large and gorgeous in a fitted white chiffon blouse.

"... Miss Shina Koizumi."

Mikan couldn't believe it. The woman whom her fiance was possibly cheating on Mikan with was now her boss. _Could this week get any worse? _Well, apparently it could.

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><p>Not proof-read. :)<p> 


	10. Burning

**Author's Note: **A hundred reviews?! :O Thank you so much, guys! Love ya! (To the reviewer who said, 'Please update, it's summer!', it's summer all year round for me so I don't actually have a three-month long summer holiday. :( Sorry for the late update, I kept rewriting this chapter and it still feels weird, to me.

**Disclaimer: **GA doesn't belong to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 10: Burning**

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><p>"How can you <em>do <em>this to me?" Mikan wailed, slamming her fist down on Hotaru's tabletop and causing the Xena the Warrior Princess figurine on top of Hotaru's computer screen to wobble.

"For your information, I did not, nor could I, decide who to employ as the new managing editor," Hotaru said calmly. "And I didn't know that she is the woman your fiance is screwing around with. Speaking of which, I think you should confront that Mouri dude."

Mikan knew that too. She knew she had to thrash things out with Reo sooner or later, but she didn't have the guts to. What if it was true? What if Reo was really cheating on her? She was afraid to face the truth. She was afraid of finding out that her boyfriend did not love her enough to not cheat on her.

"I know that," she whispered weakly.

Hotaru looked directly at Mikan as though she knew what she was thinking. She probably knew, Mikan thought. Hotaru had always been kind of psychic.

"You're afraid," she announced. "Sheesh."

"Well, wouldn't you be?" Mikan exclaimed in a pathetic attempt to defend herself.

"I told you not to date that shithole," Hotaru sighed. She rustled around in her desk drawer and came up with a namecard, which she pushed across the table towards Mikan.

"I&N?" Mikan raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name printed on the stiff white paper.

"My new restaurant." Hotaru nodded, the look in her purple eyes sending Mikan a _'Don't ask' _vibe._  
><em>

"Right. The one you opened with Ruka Nogi, of all people," Mikan replied coolly, as though opening a restaurant with one of the top supermodels was as normal as brushing your teeth every morning. Then again, Mikan thought better than to judge Hotaru. After all, she was the one who managed to get a supermodel infertile, and end up being his slave. Jesus.

"Anyway, we've planned a small welcoming party for the new managing editor tonight at the restaurant. I&N has not officially opened, so it will be a private event. Invite Mouri along, even though the thought of that vermin stepping foot in my restaurant makes me want to retch. Confront him during the party, and if he dumps you, you won't feel that bad 'cause you'll be in a gorgeous dress and there will be many handsome, single men willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on at the party," Hotaru explained.

It sounded like a good plan to Mikan. After all, Hotaru was the one who came up with it, and she had always been good at plans. Well, except for that one time when Hotaru plotted a scheme to crawl over a fence of a fruit farm to steal the delicious-looking cherries, and Mikan ended up lying on the cold hard ground face-down in the soil. That was, however, when they were kids. Mikan was pretty sure Hotaru had gotten better at plotting schemes.

* * *

><p>Reo was avoiding Mikan's calls again. Frustrated, Mikan put on a fake, sweet voice and said after the stupid beep, "Hey, darling. Hotaru's having a really cool little party at her new restaurant. There'll be supermodels, free booze and food there. Let's go together! I'll text you the address. See you there at 7!"<p>

Mikan _knew _the mention of supermodels and free booze would get him. True enough, the little weasel texted to say that he would meet her there. Mikan rolled her eyes as she turned on the faucet and let warm water flow into her bathtub. After taking a heavenly soak in the peach-scented bubble bath, she got dressed in the strapless black cocktail dress she'd bought on impulse after work. She would be surrounded by beautiful models, and she wanted to look presentable. Most of all, she wanted to show Reo what he was missing out on by dumping her, if he did. Mikan squirted the Chanel perfume she'd borrowed from Hotaru on the insides of her wrists, spent about an hour perfecting her make up and another hour doing her hair. _  
><em>

"You ready?" Hotaru called.

"Almost!" Mikan shouted back, glancing at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Her chestnut brown hair was curled and put up in a chignon. On her slender neck hung a silver necklace with a heart pendant, which Reo had given her for her birthday. She looked okay. Maybe even pretty. She looked at the framed picture of her and Reo, which was placed on her messy dressing table. She hated herself for still loving Reo, after all he had done. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned away from the picture and walked out of the door.

"You look good," Hotaru said as they rode the elevator down.

"Thanks, you look gorgeous too," Mikan smiled. And she did. A silver hair band adorned Hotaru's short black hair, and the deep purple of her dress brought out the colour of her amethyst eyes. She looked radiant.

As both women settled into Hotaru's black Toyota Corolla, Hotaru asked, "Are you ready?"

Mikan knew what she was talking about. "I guess so. Do you think I'm stupid for still loving him, Hotaru? He'd always been a flirt, a player. I thought I was different when he asked me to marry him, I really did. I thought he was ready for commitment with me. How stupid was that? A leopard never changes its spots." Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to cry.

After a minute or two, her best friend answered, "Well, you've always been dumb. Remember how you always thought trees gave off cold air because you felt cooler standing under a tree? But I want you to know that I'll always be here for you."

Suddenly, Hotaru's dig at her IQ didn't matter. At that moment, the tears slipped down Mikan's cheeks.

"You're the best, Hotaru. I love you!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms with much difficulty around Hotaru's waist.

"Watch it, I'm driving," her best friend snapped, "and wipe your tears. You look twice as ugly when you cry."

Mikan just smiled.

* * *

><p>The party was already in full swing when Mikan and Hotaru arrived. The spacious restaurant was crowded with people grinding on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room and people standing around, sipping champagne and eating. The tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room to make space for the dance floor.<p>

"This is beautiful," Mikan breathed, looking around at the room. It was decorated in various shades of pale blue, white, ash grey and light brown wood.

"Thank you. We wanted a friendly, warm, family kind of theme," Ruka Nogi appeared out of nowhere and smiled at the ladies.

"Nogi," Hotaru nodded in acknowledgement. "How's the party going?"

"Great. There was a little blip with the caterers but..." As the pair wandered away to talk, Mikan strolled to a waiter who was carrying a silver tray full of champagne flutes. She took one and gulped it down, letting the little bubbles of sweetness explode in her mouth. She couldn't help but feel a bit lost without Hotaru. She was way out of her depth here. She didn't belong in glitzy places like this. She was just an ordinary, nothing-special girl. She scanned the room for Reo's reddish-brown hair but almost yelped in surprise when she spotted a head of familiar black hair. Natsume Hyuuga. Oh God. That kiss popped into her head again.

It had just been a mere peck on the lips, nothing more, but it had made her toes and a few other places in her body tingle like she had just been electrocuted. She had almost heard angels descending from the heaven singing around her ears. It was a mind-shatteringly good kiss. Her heart thumped and she felt like she was thirteen all over again, looking at her crush from a distance.

"Mikan," a voice said, and Mikan was jolted out of her embarrassing thoughts of a certain red-eyed supermodel.

"Oh, um, hi." It was Reo. "Er, actually... I have..."

"I have to talk to you," he said softly. "Let's go out for a bit."

Feeling dumbstruck, Mikan weaved through the crowd and followed him out of the restaurant.

"So..." she prompted, observing how the light from the streetlamps shone in Reo's hair and picked out the gold strands.

"I know we're getting engaged, so I want to be completely honest with you," he started, staring at his feet and fiddling with his leather watch. "Look, you have to believe me. You can't get angry. It was just a stupid mistake, I swear. The one I really love is you..."

Mikan's mind went on red alert, and her heart started thumping like a freight train. Her head throbbed as she forced out the dreaded question, "What?"

"I... You have to promise me you'll believe me, darling, babe. You're the one I love. It was a moment of folly..." Reo stuttered.

"Just tell me!" Mikan almost screamed, her cold and clammy hands clutching at the strap of her handbag.

Reo looked up, and his eyes looked dull. "Shina is... she's... pregnant."

Mikan thought her heart would shatter into a million pieces literally. She clutched her bag so tightly she was sure it would break. Tears blurred her vision.

"What?" She had thought it hurt when she thought she saw Reo kissing Shina. But now it was unbearable. She was not only certain they'd kissed, but Shina was... pregnant. Pregnant.

"My ex-colleague, the one you saw me at the restaurant with... she's pregnant. By me." He added, as though Mikan was stupid and didn't get the message, adding insult to her injured heart. "I swear, it was a mistake, babe. I swear."

Lifting her hand, Mikan gave him one tight slap across his right cheek. Her hand trembled as she put it down. Burning gasps were coming out of her mouth and tears like acid slipped down her cheeks. Her world had come crashing down around her.

"What the f... Babe, babe, I know what I did was wrong, but did you have to slap me?" Reo looked so shell-shocked, cupping his cheek and glaring at Mikan as though she was the one who was in the wrong.

Even until now, he didn't see the gravity of the issue. He was still the self-centered, narcissistic jerk who put himself before others.

"Don't. Call. Me. Babe." Mikan managed to grind out, roughly swiping away her tears. She turned around and stomped away, her heart breaking further with every step she took.

* * *

><p>Rushed update, I'm going to watch The Croods in about... half an hour. Yep. Review! :) (Not edited)<p> 


	11. Thump

**Author's Note: **Just thought I'd update something before I leave for NYC in 2 weeks. Sorry it's been so long! :/

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 11: Thump**

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><p>Mikan bulldozed her way through the throngs of party-goers in an attempt to get to the bathroom.<p>

"Ouch, that was my toe!" a woman screeched as Mikan accidentally stepped on her foot. She couldn't even bring herself to mutter an apology; the pain was still too raw, too new.

"Mikan?" Natsume sounded surprised. Mikan glanced up to see the dark-haired gorgeous man staring down at her with a questioning look in his eyes. She looked down quickly, hoping that he didn't see her tear-streaked Her eyes darted to his arm, which was curled around the sequinned waist of the woman whose toe she just stepped on. Her impressive body, clothed in a red clingy sequinned number, was pressed tightly against Natsume's side and her perfect hand was placed on Natsume's chest, staking claim. A jolt of pain and jealousy struck Mikan's heart and she suddenly felt the urge to throw up, which was ridiculous. Of course Natsume was still the big womanizer he was, screwing anyone who had boobs and was breathing. But that didn't stop Mikan from thinking subconsciously, _'Back away, he's mine.' __  
><em>

Mikan slapped herself mentally._ What the hell? _The sane part of her brain chided._ He is not yours, and will never be. That kiss he gave you was just a joke. It wasn't anything special. You are nothing special to him. Just one in the many women he kissed._ Somehow, that thought just made more bile rise up in her throat and more tears spill down her face.

"You know her, sweetie?" the redhead questioned, giving Mikan a I'm-better-than-you stare. "Who's she?"

"Nobody," Natsume replied coolly. Coldness trickled down her spine, chilling Mikan to her bone. Nobody. That was what she was to him.

"She stepped on my toe and didn't apologize!" The girl whined softly, giving him a sappy puppy-eyes look, running her blood-red nails down Natsume's shirt. Turning to Mikan, her eyes hardened. "Look at me, little girl," she whispered in a low, dangerous voice. "Now tell me, why didn't you apologize? Do you know how much I spent on my pedicure? And my shoes? They're Christian Louboutins!"

Mikan stared at her own feet, feeling like a fool. First, her fiance announced that he had knocked up his lover. Just five minutes later, the man she was getting to understand and even _like _better blanked her and called her a nobody. And now this little redheaded bitch was trying to put her down. Just what was with her luck tonight, anyway? She grabbed the hem of her dress tightly, so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Look at me, you bitch." Before Mikan could resist, the redhead hooked a finger under Mikan's chin and tilted it up roughly.

"Mikan?" Natsume stepped away from his companion's grip, a hint of concern in his voice. "Why are you crying?"

In the short span of time he'd known Mikan, Natsume had never seen her look so weak, frightened and heartbroken before. She always had that stupid smile on her face, that mischievous glint in her eye when she bickered with him. Her pale face was now streaked with badly smudged mascara and tears that were still dripping off her cheeks. Her normally bright, melted-chocolate eyes were now dead and sullen. It scared him that at that moment, he would have given anything in the world just to put that cheeky, goofy smile back on her face and the shine in her eyes where it used to be.

"Sorry," Mikan forced herself to say, wanting to get away from Natsume's burning gaze. She didn't think she could deal with pity or fake concern from him. Not after what she had been through tonight.

Before Natsume's toy for the night could say anything else, Mikan pushed her hand away and ran for the bathroom as fast as she could in her heels, mumbling apologies as she knocked into people. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty. Mikan stared at her pathetic reflection in the mirror and took in a deep breath. She hated herself for being so weak. For being so gullible. For still loving Reo, even though she knew he was a bastard who deserved to burn in hell.

"Waaah!" She promised herself that this was the last time she would cry over Reo Mouri. Looking at her reflection bawling like a baby in the mirror, she felt strangely relieved to let it all out. After about 5 minutes of crying, shouting and sniffing, she sighed and grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the wall and held them under the tap. First things first. She had to at least sort herself out and not look like a deranged panda with her running mascara.

She was applying some Maybelline mascara (waterproof, this time) when the door crashed right into the wall with a loud bang.

"Damn!" Mikan jumped in shock. She looked in the mirror to see Natsume stalking towards her, an angry expression on his beautiful face. "You!" she spluttered. "What the hell are you doing? I almost poked my eye out with my mascara wand! And... this is the ladies!"

"I'm perfectly aware of that," he answered, still glaring at her.

"Okay, spill it. What's up?" Mikan scowled at him.

"Is that any way to treat the man who made sure no one took a step into this bathroom to give you the privacy you needed to cry your eyeballs out? I literally had to sell my body to seduce those women who wanted to take a leak." Natsume pretended to be outraged, slapping a hand over his heart. "Oh, you break my little heart."

Mikan gave a sound that sounded like a cross between a sob and a giggle. "I bet you enjoyed that."

"Um, excuse me, but please find me someone who would enjoy five little grannies with prune-like skin, orange-y hair that must have been the outcome of a bad dye job, rubbing their shriveled old saggy parts against me. They were practically raping me. Well, not that I can blame them, really. I mean, having a hot young stud in his 20s like me so near to them must have made their haven't-been-touched-in-20-years, dried up boobs and you-know-what tingle." Laughter leaked from Mikan's mouth as she imagined the scene in her head.

"Oh, and not to mention that woman who practically took the bathroom door down, wanting to throw up. Too many tequila shooters, I think. I had to haul her away from the door physically. Then she mistook me for her husband and was screaming about why I was screwing their housekeeper. Guess where that pent-up bile and frustration and alcohol went." Natsume wrinkled his nose.

"Oh God, she threw up on you?" Mikan giggled.

"On my $2000 Gucci shoes. Brogues, I think they were. Gobbets of puke were stuck in the little perforations," he said, poker-faced.

"I'm so sorry," Mikan managed to say through the gurgles of laughter escaping her mouth as she looked down at his feet. Indeed, there were no shoes there but just a pair of plain white socks.

"Aw, I was hoping to see some Hello Kitty socks or something."

"Oh, I would," he deadpanned. "When you take off all your clothes and swing around on a giant metal ball, licking a sledgehammer."

Mikan grinned. This man was surprisingly funny, in a crude kind of way.

"You're smiling again." To her surprise, Natsume gave a genuine smile of his own, showing a flash of his white, even teeth.

"You made me," she smiled, feeling more tears well up in her eyes. This time, though, they were there not because she was sad, but because she was touched. Touched by the effort he'd gone to to make her feel better. She looked up at the man who was willing to abandon a big-breasted gorgeous redhead who looked like she was mindblowingly amazing in the sack, get molested by a gang of crazy, sex-deprived old biddies, get his $2000 shoes thrown up on, get mauled by a deranged woman and wear Hello Kitty socks, all for her. Mikan felt her heart swell with a strong, warm feeling for him.

"Let's go," Natsume said, snapping Mikan out of her thoughts.

"Where?"

"On a mission to cheer Mikan Sakura up." He gave a her a tiny wink which sent her heart fluttering, her knees melting and her toes curling. _Thump_. Her heart went. '_I think I just fell a little in love with Natsume Hyuuga.' Ba-thump. _

"Hurry up, slowpoke. God, I swear those dotty grandmas react faster than you do. And what shitty lipstick are you wearing? Your lips look like those huge sausages. Take it off, for the love of God."

Okay, maybe not.

* * *

><p>Sorry if this was crappy! I've had writer's block for literally months and this is the first thing I've written in a long time. Review! :)<p> 


	12. Movie Marathon

**Author's Note: **Boring and short chapter ahead, but I'm trying to build up their relationship so please bear with me! More drama will be coming up in later chapters, promise!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA.

* * *

><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 12: Movie Marathon**

* * *

><p>Mikan scoffed, "Well, I'm sorry. And please leave me alone while I sip some alcohol into my system with this pair of sausage lips, thank you very much." She knew she was overreacting and over-sensitive, and that Natsume was just teasing her as always, but for God's sake, she had had enough. Yes, for some unfathomable reason, she had felt a teeny bit better earlier when Natsume tried to cheer her up, but now she had fallen apart again. After all, she had spent <em>years <em>on Reo Mouri, and even though she knew good and well he was a bastard, you can't just erase 2 years worth of memory and love with a snap of your fingers. Even if it was a one-sided love, which Mikan knew now that it was. Reo had never loved her, not really. It was no rocket science, really, but the only joke was how long she took to see it. Mikan pushed past Natsume roughly and barreled over to a waiter in the corner, carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes. _  
><em>

She grabbed one and downed the whole thing in three seconds flat. She then plonked the empty glass back onto the tray and grabbed another, ignoring the bewildered look the waiter was sending her.

"Why..." she began as she let the bubbly liquid slide down her throat. "Why are men such pigs, huh? Why are men such lying, no-good trash who only go busty, gorgeous women?" Mikan spotted a 3-quarter full champagne bottle at a table beside the waiter and grabbed it. Before the shell-shocked waiter could protest, she had yanked the cork from the mouth of the bottle and held it to her lips, taking huge gulps and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She could not care less how mentally-challenged and deranged she must seem. _I'm already the stupidest, most cowardly human being on the face of Earth, why not add 'chronic alcoholic' and 'deranged' onto the list? _"Am I really so stupid? So undesirable that he had go and knock up my boss? Huh?" Mikan demanded, gazing hotly at the waiter. She could feel herself getting tipsy, feel the world spinning around her, and it felt good. _  
><em>

"Well, babe, I don't know who thinks you're undesirable, but I bet you would look hot walking around wearing nothing but my shirt," the waiter, who had recovered enough from his shock to recognize the fact that there was a drunk, vulnerable and cute chick in front of him, grinned at Mikan suggestively.

"Really?" Mikan gazed up gratefully at the waiter, who appeared to be in his late twenties. She began to throw her arms, still clutching the bottle in one hand, around his neck and croon,"Aww, that is sooooo swee**—" **At that moment, a hand shot out and grabbed her by her upper arm. She was slammed into a hard chest, and she felt an arm wrap around her protectively. She felt anger boiling up in her. If it was Reo, she swore she would smash his pretty little face into the ground and jump on his head. Just as she was preparing to stomp on his foot and catch him off guard, the man spoke up.

"Well, I bet you would look hot walking around with no dick," Natsume said, glaring at the smarmy waiter. "Because if you lay a filthy finger on her, I swear I'll castrate you."

The petrified waiter turned pale and quickly scampered away.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" Mikan scowled, trying to go after the waiter but Natsume's arm was locked tightly around her. She frowned and tried to take a gulp from the champagne bottle she had snagged, but it was ripped from her grip and set aside by Natsume.

"HEY!" Mikan yelled, and beat her fists against his chest. He didn't even flinch. "That was MINE! Why did you take it away from me? Why did you do that? Why... why?" Tears started flowing down her face again and her fists slowed down.

"He's not worth it," Natsume said, almost gently. Mikan stared into his bright crimson eyes for what seemed like a million years, sucked in by the pools of ruby. Then she threw up on him.

* * *

><p>"I really don't know why the hell I'm even helping you," Natsume growled in frustration as he dumped Mikan in the bathroom in his guest suite. He parked her under the shower and turned the knob, sending an icy stream of water down, not caring if Mikan was still dressed. She screamed.<p>

"Sober now?" he snarled. "Well, you'd better." Then he stomped out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Mikan slowly, jerkily peeled off her dress. She stood under the shower, letting the flow of icy water wash over her, shock her, sober her up. She tried to put herself in Natsume's shoes, and guessed she could understand why he was so cranky. Getting puked on two times in less than an hour just to help her, getting hit and yelled at for what he didn't do... Ouch. Mikan was normally not an ingrate, but she definitely owed Natsume a lot. She made up her mind to apologize later, but first things first. She scrubbed away all traces of tears, mascara, eyeliner and lipgloss from her face, seeing the mess of colors pool on the marble-tiled floor and going down the little inconspicuous hole in the floor and wishing that the hurt, the feelings she still held for Reo could wash away as easily.

To distract herself from thinking about that jerk, Mikan observed her surroundings and took in the luxurious bathroom that could fit about 20 people. The bathroom wall was tiled in varying shades of black and gray, and had a long stretch of matching counters topped with white marble on one side. A huge mirror hung above the counters, on which stood neatly arranged rows of toiletries, random glass dishes and jars and little candles. On a raised platform was a large, sparkly white bathtub surrounded by white pots overflowing with fancy, lush greenery. The shower she was standing in was surrounded by frosted glass walls, and with a push of a button, the water falling from the shower head could be bathed in various colors of lights, which Mikan thought was a bit ridiculous. Darned rich people.

Finally, Mikan turned off the steady water and dried herself off with a fluffy white towel. She wrapped herself in a white bathrobe and stepped out in the huge bedroom, which was furnished in shades of black, grey and white, with bits of chrome and glass thrown in to complete the palatial modern look. She saw a pile of neatly folded clothes on the end of the California king-sized bed and dressed quickly in them. A plain long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants.

"Hey," said a voice. Mikan jumped, thanking her lucky stars that she had gotten dressed before Natsume walked in. He was carrying a tray, and seemed to have calmed down a little, and judging from his fresh-smelling clean clothes, he had also taken a shower and scrubbed all traces of puke from his body.

"Hey yourself," she answered. "And um... sorry about earlier, I guess. I was having a bad day."

"No shit, Sherlock," he rolled his eyes and then plopped down the tray he was carrying onto the side table. He then plopped down on one side of the bed, and seeing that Mikan was just staring at him, shell-shocked, patted the space next to him.

Mikan obediently sat on the other side stiffly, wondering what he was up to. Surely he would not try anything on her, would he? As if he could read her mind, he merely said, "Relax, I'm not going to touch you. You're not my cup of tea." Instead of feeling relieved like she should, Mikan felt insulted and a bit disappointed. She mentally smacked herself for feeling that way.

Natsume reached for a sleek remote control and jabbed it at the 60-inch TV. "I have found, that the best way to take your minds off things and simply not give a shit, is to have a movie marathon." He reached for something on the tray, and Mikan could have wept with happiness right then and there. A whole tub of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream, all to herself, a bag of Kit-Kats, a bag of Ruffles, a bottled Starbucks frappuccino.

"Thank you," she whispered as she ripped the lid off the ice cream.

She swore she could have seen Natsume smile in the darkness.

Natsume was right. The movies took Mikan's mind off. _Frozen _sucked her into the world of singing snowmen, ice queens and everlasting winters. _Mama_ made her yelp and clutch so hard onto Natsume's arm she was sure there was a bruise, but he didn't protest. _The Hunger Games_ made her stare intensely at the screen, occasionally letting out a yelp. _We're the Millers_ made her howl with laughter, until tears leaked out of her eyes. She harshly rubbed them away, determined to continue the movie marathon brainwashing. Then, when_ Miracle in Cell No. 7 _came on, she was convulsing with sobs and wails, her second tub of ice cream abandoned and melting all over the sheets. She curled involuntarily into Natsume, who had not said a single word since the movies started. He only hesitantly patted her hair, stroking the tangled mass.

"Let it go," was all Mikan heard him whisper in a shaky, awkward singing voice before drifting off to sleep, a tiny smile on her tear-stained face.

* * *

><p>Writing fluff is so awkward HAHAHA.<p> 


	13. Thrill Ride

**Author's Note: **Sorry I took so long to update! I was busy with exams and had major writer's block, URGH.

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill~

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 13: **Thrill Ride

* * *

><p>"You made this?" Mikan asked incredulously as she stared down at the plate of fluffy, heavenly-smelling scrambled eggs and perfectly fried bacon in front of her.<p>

"Uh, no, a chicken just flew in here and popped it out." Natsume rolled his eyes as he took another bite of his own creation. "What's your problem?"

"I just can't believe someone as foul as you can make such tasty eggs," Mikan mumbled through a mouthful of eggs.

"Excuse me?" Natsume scowled at her. "In case you've forgotten, who the hell saved your ass so many times last night?"

"My brother has hidden talents," a voice said. Mikan turned around and saw Natsume's sister standing near the dining table, a smile on her lips, holding her cane in one hand.

"Good morning!" Mikan greeted, glad to escape Natsume's evil eye. "Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes, by the way," she added, referring to the polo tee and cargo shorts she had on.

"No problem," Aoi said, slipping into a chair next to Natsume and feeling around the table with her hands. Mikan watched as she found the jar of orange juice and poured it into a glass. A little slopped out of the side and splashed onto the table. Aoi fumbled around for a napkin and accidentally knocked over a teapot.

"Sorry," she whispered as Natsume swiftly soaked up the spilled liquid with some napkins.

"It's nothing," Natsume replied softly. He gently patted the top of Aoi's head with such a tender look in his eyes that Mikan blinked in shock. "What would you like today? We've got scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and sausages." Aoi chose the toast and eggs.

"Here." Mikan watched as Natsume placed a piece of golden toast on a plate and heaped it with some eggs, then push it towards his sister. She felt a kind of stirring in her heart as she witnessed how caring and loving he was towards his sister. Who knew the big bad boy could turn out to be such a sweet older brother, after all?

Natsume put down his fork and dug around in his pocket. He pulled out a sleek black Gucci wallet and flipped it open, retrieving three squares of paper. "That reminds me. Ruka gave me these, so we're going to the amusement park today, and you're coming with us, Aoi," Natsume announced.

Mikan picked up one of the tickets and exclaimed, "Disneyland! Wow! Why would he do this?"

"Apparently Imai set him up to do this," Natsume said dryly.

Mikan felt tears well up in her eyes; she was so touched by Hotaru's attempt to cheer her up. Her best friend had remembered that she had always loved to go on scary thrill rides at amusement parks even though she would be so frightened that she would scream her head off. But why would she get Natsume to go with her though? Mikan knew Hotaru was not a big fan of amusement parks, but why would she send this bad-tempered supermodel along? And why did he agree so readily? Perhaps Hotaru had blackmailed him into doing so, being an accomplished blackmailer herself. Mikan wondered what embarrassing story of Natsume's Hotaru had obtained such that he would be pressured into bringing the sister he was so protective of and a girl who was probably deranged to him to a kiddy amusement park.

"Me?" Aoi was saying, her crimson eyes widening. "But... won't I be a burden?"

Natsume scoffed, "Burden? I would say this little imp here is much more of a burden than you ever will be, Aoi. Don't sweat it. Hurry and finish your food. We'll leave after breakfast."

"T-thank you, nii-chan!" Aoi exclaimed, her face lit up by such a huge smile that Natsume cracked into a tiny smile just looking at her. "I'll go get ready! I'm so excited!" She downed her orange juice and finished her breakfast in double math. She then gave a little bow and clattered to her room.

"She's never been out other than the place she has her Braille lessons since her accident," Natsume said suddenly, a hint of sadness and regret in his eyes. "I've never let her. I thought she wasn't ready. I didn't want anyone to pick on her. But I guess... just this one time would be okay."

"She looks so happy," Mikan observed. "Maybe you're overprotective of her. She needs to stand up for herself, you know."

She expected Natsume to pick a fight about this, but he just sighed resignedly. "I guess. I don't know, honestly."

"Anyway, how are you supposed to go out without attracting attention?" Mikan questioned, changing the subject. Natsume smirked and crossed over to a chest of drawers beside the huge flat-screen TV. He pulled out a short, brown wig and hid his glorious black locks under it. He then put on a pair of fake glasses that covered half of his face. He then pulled on an oversized black beanie and a surgical mask.

"Um... Isn't that too much?" Mikan said doubtfully. "Won't you just end up attracting more attention?"

Natsume scoffed, "Disneyland is full of weirdos in those gay masks and headbands. I would pale in comparison next to them."

Mikan laughed, "I guess so... Let's go then!"

* * *

><p>Mikan had just about the best day ever. True enough, no one came up to Natsume even once and asked him for an autograph or anything, even though Mikan was expecting that someone, at the very least, would stare and peer at him. They bought little Mickey Mouse shaped ice-cream sandwiches from a vendor while they kept their eye out for potential rides.<p>

Natsume put an arm around Aoi and guided her carefully through the throngs of people. They finally decided to go on the Space Mission ride whose waiting time was 40 minutes.

Mikan looked at her brochure. "Splash Mountain seems fun! I'll go get Fastpasses for us!" She followed the map and finally managed to track down the daunting water ride. She fed their tickets into the machine which spewed out three Fastpasses. Beaming, she made her way back to the Space Mission ride and wriggled her way through the lines of protesting people until she found Natsume and Aoi.

Aoi told Mikan funny and embarrassing stories about Natsume while they queued in the dark room for their turn. Mikan laughed so hard that snot was almost coming out of her nose, while Natsume scowled and tried to hush Aoi.

"Y-you're telling me that he wanted to see the Rolling Stones so badly that he offered to wash your neighbors' cars naked to earn money? In January?" Mikan spluttered.

"I was fourteen!" Natsume protested.

Mikan was still laughing her ass off at the ridiculous stories Aoi had to share that she didn't realize it was their turn until they were seated onto a little sausage-shaped car and the bar was lowered over their thighs.

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Aoi?" Natsume, who was forced to sit in the first and probably worst seat, turned around and asked Aoi as they were still cruising at a relaxed, slow pace.

"Yup." Aoi nodded, clutching onto the bar tightly.

"Hey, what about meeeeeeeee?" Mikan started to say, but her voice escalated into a scream as the car dropped down a slope and made sudden drops and turns. Blinding lights flashed in front of her as they were thrown into complete darkness and flung about like rag dolls. Mikan and Aoi screamed in exhilaration throughout the ride, while Natsume muttered, "Oh, for God's sake, can't you keep quiet?"

Finally, the ride pulled to a halt and the staff gallantly helped Aoi out.

"That was awesome!" Aoi grinned as they made their way out.

"I know, right?" Mikan exclaimed.

Natsume looked a little green, but scoffed, "Hn, it was nothing."

Next, the trio went on a couple of mild rides including the Winnie the Pooh ride and Dumbo ride, then finally went for some lunch at a restaurant.

"We shouldn't go on any thrill rides for now," Mikan advised. "Or we'll probably heave out all our lunch. Let's just walk around for a bit."

Natsume looked positively giddy with relief at Mikan's comment. "Yeah, sure."

They strolled around the picturesque theme park, snapped some pictures and looked at some of the gift shops.

"This suits you," Mikan grinned as she plopped a Minnie Mouse headband on Natsume's beanie-covered head.

"Oh? Well, this suits you," Natsume smirked and plonked a sparkly, tacky-looking headband with shiny mouse ears onto her head. Mikan laughed and found her breath hitch when she realized Natsume was staring at her a little too intently. A warm blush came over her cheeks; did she have broccoli stuck in her teeth or something? Even with the ugly glasses covering his eyes, they looked, well, beautiful. Her cheeks grew warmer and warmer until Natsume looked away and broke the eye contact.

"Well, let's go, then. Didn't you say the Fastpass you got was for 6pm?" Was it just Mikan, or did he sound a little flustered? Mikan quickly shook her head, pulled off the headband and followed after him.

* * *

><p>"That was so much fun!" Aoi gushed. "I felt like my heart was bursting out of my chest and the huge drop! I opened my mouth so large that I swallowed some water that splashed out."<p>

"Are you okay?" Natsume fussed, patting Aoi's hair dry with a piece of Kleenex.

"I should be the one to ask you that." Mikan looked at Natsume, whose face looked positively green. "How are you feeling? Was that ride too much?"

"Of course not!" Natsume rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand.

"There's time for one more ride before the fireworks." Mikan consulted her watch. "What would you like to go on, Aoi?"

Aoi clapped her hands together, "Something thrilling!"

Natsume patted his sister's hair affectionately, "Whatever you say, princess."

"All right, then... How about the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad?"

Two hours later, the trio emerged from the roller coaster ride with Natsume walking a little unsteadily, looking like he was about to hurl. Aoi, on the other hand, was glowing with pleasure and flushed from adrenaline.

"Hey, Aoi? Could you wait for us here? We're going to the bathroom for a bit," Mikan told Aoi as she guided her to a bench. Aoi nodded happily and munched on the turkey leg she had just bought from a vendor.

Mikan grabbed Natsume by the arm and steered him away to a bathroom stall for the handicapped. She hesitated for a while, then finally yanked open the door and dragged him in. It was the only place they could get some privacy.

"Are you okay? Hey!" Mikan gently shook Natsume, who had cold beads of sweat on his pale face. She pulled off his beanie and wig and glasses, and he slumped onto the toilet.

"Damn rollercoasters," he muttered, dragging a hand across his forehead.

Mikan pulled some toilet paper and wiped the sweat off his chiseled face, feeling a little flustered at being this close to his face. "You should have said something. I thought you looked unwell from the start, but you..." She trailed off as she brushed his black hair, plastered to his head with sweat, away from his face. She thought it was so unfair how he could still look so good and hot even when he was sick and as green as a lizard. When she was sick, she looked like a clammy dead turkey from the butcher.

"Shut up," Natsume groaned, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm fine. I just want Aoi to have fun. I haven't seen her this happy in years. I didn't want to spoil it for her."

Mikan felt her heart swell with respect- and something else, something she couldn't put a ring on- for the man before her. The man who was willing to go on thrill rides and make himself sick for his sister's sake. The man who was willing to get his thousand-dollar shoes puked on for _her _sake.

"Here, take some medicine for nausea, you might feel a bit better." Mikan pulled out a little ziplock bag from her bag, tipped a small yellow pill onto her palm and held it out to Natsume.

"Wow, what else do you have in there, Dr Sakura? A bazooka?"

"Shut up! Eat it!"

He shook his head, "Why don't you feed it to me mouth-to-mouth?"

Mikan lit up like a beacon and automatically smacked his head.

"Ow!" Natsume yelped and grabbed her hand. "You just made my headache about a million times worse. Thanks a bunch, dude."

"S-Sorry!" Mikan gushed, feeling genuinely apologetic. She had not meant to do that. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Like I said... why don't you give me the medicine orally? I'm too weak to take it on my own." He looked so seriously at Mikan that for once, she didn't know if he was joking or not. He looked deadly serious. And he was still holding onto her hand. Mikan's heart thumped so loudly she was sure Natsume could hear it too. Her hand was sweating from all the nerves, but Natsume didn't let go.

"I... I..."

"Don't fight it, Mikan. Don't resist it," Natsume whispered, and leaned towards her.

* * *

><p>Not proof-read, so sorry for any mistakes! And please pardon me for any inaccuracies about the Disneyland thing. I have only been to the one in Orlando, Florida and not to the Tokyo one so I'm just kind of basing it on my own experience. ^^" Hope you enjoyed!<p> 


	14. Denial

**Author's Note: **Thanks for your support, as always! :) After reading the reviews, I swear some of you can read my mind and know what I'm gonna write next. XD Ah well.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gakuen Alice.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 14: Denial**

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><p><em>Oh my God, he's gonna kiss me. Oh my God! <em>That was the first thought that popped into Mikan's head.

_Go for it, you lucky little shit! _Her inner goddess cheered.

_Oh my God, what? He's going to kiss me? KISS ME? KISS? ME? _was the third thought. Before she could process this any longer, she had subconsciously reached out and put her hands on Natsume's rock-hard chest and pushed him away with all her might. He fell off the toilet and landed on the tiled floor with a loud thump. Mikan put her hands to her burning cheeks and stuttered, "Oh... Um... I..."

Before Natsume could respond, Mikan opened the door and ran like she was being chased by a pack of wild dogs. She was still running along, with her hands clasped to her boiling cheeks, when she heard footsteps thundering behind her. Uh oh. At that moment, she would rather be chased by a pack of wild dogs than have a very pissed, very frustrated and very injured Natsume at her heels.

"Ah!" Mikan yelped when Natsume grabbed her wrist and spun her around. She cursed herself for not being athletic. She couldn't tell his expression from the ugly spectacles covering more than half his face, but she would bet that he was positively murderous right now. He dragged her to an obscure corner that was only lit by a dim pool of light from a nearby streetlamp.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Natsume growled, yanking off his glasses and running a hand through the synthetic fibers of his flimsy wig.

"Uh," Mikan stuttered, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. Why had she run away? She didn't even know. She was reluctant to admit it, but okay, fine, she was definitely attracted to Natsume, just a tiny bit. Oh, all right, maybe a lot. He was sexy, he was witty, he was humorous and he had definitely been a savior to her countless times. And God knows what a fine kisser he was, and how that face and smile, albeit rarely seen, of his could melt the cartilage in girls' knees so that they went all wobbly and weak. So why had she pushed him away, when he so obviously wanted to kiss her, for reasons that were still a mystery to her? Why did she bolt out of that bathroom like her life depended on it when she wanted to kiss him so much it physically hurt just to pull away from him? Why did she run away, when she was falling in love with him?

_Oh my God, _Mikan thought, feeling as though she might just hurl all the turkey she had just stuffed into herself a few hours ago. _Falling? In love? With Natsume? Natsume Hyuuga? _It was true that she thought he was hot and all, but he had the personality of a 90-year-old grumpy virgin. Or did he? She thought of all the times he had helped her, even though it would bring him nothing but trouble. She thought of how much fun she had bickering with him and insulting him. She thought of how gentle and sweet he was to his little sister, how he really was a big softie beneath his ice-cold, arrogant facade.

The romantic, sappy part of her brain cheered, while the reasonable part of her tried to talk some sense into herself. _No, Mikan, you are not in love. Let alone with Natsume Hyuuga, for God's sake. Have you forgotten what a dickhead he is? Who's the one who made you his slave and insults you about 100 times in an hour? No, Mikan, you're just feeling weird. Getting thrown around in a little metal car down 50 feet doesn't exactly make you clear-headed. And in case you've forgotten, you just got out of a relationship with the biggest douchebag on Earth, okay? You don't need to get yourself involved with the second biggest douchebag. _

The hopeless romantic part of her, developed through countless romance novels read in the bathtub and countless sappy movies on a date with her couch and a tub of Ben and Jerry's, wagged its finger and tsk-tsked. _No, my dear, he is most definitely not a douchebag. He may seem like one, but he is just a big sweetie. Why did he go through all this trouble just to cheer you up when you're down? And I don't have to remind you how many times he's saved your ass. He definitely likes you! And you definitely like him too! I say go for it! _

_No, no, he's a big flirt and womanizer, my dear, _the practical side of her brain urged. _He'll chew you up and spit you out. He's just playing around. _

_He is not! I have a feeling! _the hopeless romantic in her argued.

"Argh, just shut up!" Mikan yelled out loud, to her horror.

Natsume's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you say, Miss Sakura?"

"I... I was just talking to myself," Mikan said hastily. "I mean..."

"Okay, I really don't get you," Natsume laughed without humor. "First, you ran out on me like I was a freaking pervert or something, then you tell me to shut up when I haven't said anything. Do you have any idea how bruised my ego is right now?"

Mikan mumbled, "Sorry... I just... wasn't prepared, I guess." She realized how hurtful that might have been. Even though Natsume was a huge egomaniac and had skin about as thick as a copy of War and Peace, her rejection would definitely have stung him. She imagined how humiliating it would have been for her if she had been the one to get pushed to the bathroom floor when she was trying to kiss someone. Furthermore, he was feeling sick.

Natsume looked down at the floor, then looked up again, all the hostility gone from his handsome face. Instead, it was replaced by a smirk. "Did you really think that my little heart would get all trampled on, and I would sob like a little girl just because you refused my kiss? Hah!"

Mikan felt a little insulted, but was relieved to see him back to his normal, annoying self again. "You're the one who acted like a little girl!"

"That's 'cos my acting skills are awesome. Besides, you think too highly of yourself, Miss Runway," he said, pointedly looking at her flat chest.

"Agh! You little perv!" Mikan smacked him playfully, feeling glad that things were no longer awkward between them. She had been afraid that after that incident, she would be unable to face him properly, but that did not seem to be the case. The two threw insults back and forth all the way back to where Aoi was waiting for them, looking a little impatient.

* * *

><p>Natsume looked at Mikan and Aoi, who were slumped on the same king-sized bed, passed out after a quick shower in the Tokyo Disneyland Hotel bathroom. Mikan snored softly, and occasionally let out a murmur or a giggle in her sleep. Natsume found himself grinning slightly, looking at her sleep. Oh God, he felt like such a creep, smiling while looking at a sleeping girl. A snoring, sleeping girl, for that matter.<p>

He poured himself a glass of Johnnie Walker and wandered over to the ceiling-to-floor window that was draped with heavy, luxurious curtains. The view was gorgeous, but then again, he was used to luxury hotels and stunning views. What he _wasn't _used to was getting rejected by a girl. God, how embarrassing was that? He had lied to Mikan that his ego wasn't bruised, yeah, but he could tell how uncomfortable she was, and he didn't want things to turn sour between them. His ego had definitely been hurt, but he didn't want Mikan to turn all abnormally polite and rigid around him. He wanted her to be her usual self again, crying one minute, laughing and insulting him the next.

He downed his drink and put the glass down on a table, feeling frustrated. He raked a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower, and glanced over at Mikan, who was lying face-down in the bed and looking about as sexy as an old man with as much chest hair as a gorilla, or something. Natsume almost laughed. Here he was, in a hotel room with not just one but two king-sized beds, watching a woman sleep instead of getting between the sheets with her. Granted, his sister was here as well, but he was way too pissed to think rationally. Never had he been pushed away by a woman for trying to kiss her, and never had he walked into a hotel room with a woman and not sleep with her. Besides, why the hell did he even want Mikan Sakura? She was most definitely not sexy, nor was she much to look at. He liked women with figures, but Mikan looked like a piece of A4 paper, all flat and short and plain. She had a smart mouth and no boobs or ass to speak of. She looked like a piece of broccoli next to a piece of juicy steak compared to the woman he had been with; she just paled in comparison. Yet he was here, getting his pants in a twist because he couldn't get her. Oh, yeah, something was wrong with him, definitely.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it distractedly, still feeling pissed and upset for getting rejected. He knew he was behaving like a childish brat who couldn't get what he want, but he couldn't help it. He was a guy who always got what he wanted, no matter what it was. He was a guy who always succeeded at what he did. And right now he wanted Mikan Sakura. He wanted her to beg him to kiss her, to mend his bruised ego. _Who do you think you are, you little shortie? _He muttered internally as he tapped at his phone. _Literally thousands of women would rip off their hair and teeth to be in your place! Who the heck are you to reject me, Natsume Hyuuga? I reject women, they don't reject me._

"What?" He snapped irritably as he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Aw, Natsume-kun, why do you sound so upset?" A seductive voice purred in his ear.

"Luna. What's up?" Natsume poured himself another drink with his free hand.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to hear your voice," she drawled in her sexy, just-got-laid voice. "Why haven't you been over to see me in such a long time? I miss you, Natsume-kun."

"I've been busy," he grumbled.

"You sound stressed, hon. What you need is a bit of chillin' out. Why don't you come over tomorrow and have a little dip in my Jacuzzi? We could talk, or whatever, over a few drinks. What do you say?" Luna purred.

"Luna..." Natsume started to come up with an excuse to reject her, when he paused. Why should he be all beat up and mope around? Why should he be celibate while Mikan Sakura was hanging around him? Come to think of it, why hadn't he shagged any women in such a long time? The scheming side of Natsume's brain worked furiously. Well, hanging out with Luna would be fun, obviously. After all, there was no harm in having a beautiful, busty woman around. Besides, perhaps this would get Mikan Sakura's attention. She might even get jealous and start regretting how she had pushed him away, and fall into his arms. Now, who would get the last laugh?

"That sounds great," he finished. "I have a proposition for you as well."

"Oh?" Luna perked up.

"Oh yes." A Cheshire-cat-like grin spread across his face. "A very interesting proposition."

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><p>Hope you enjoyed! :) Not proof-read.<p> 


	15. Proposition

**Author's Note: **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! :D Oh God, I am so done with school. I have countless assignments due soon so please excuse the slow updates/short chapters/lame chapters! On a side note, to KnB fans out there, if you're interested in my Facebook-posts fanfic for Kuroko no Basuke, do check out my bio for the link! :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gakuen Alice.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 15: Proposition**

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><p>"Hey, you're here," Luna grinned up at Natsume as she opened the door to her penthouse apartment, holding a glass of red wine in her hand.<p>

"Where's your little friend?" Natsume asked, referring to her roommate, a die-hard fangirl of his called Sumire Shouda. He stepped into the luxurious living room, all chrome and glass and polished wood.

Luna rolled her eyes. "She's out, thank God. She is _so _annoying. But she's my best friend and all that, so I have to put up with her. And she helps keep the place clean. What else can I ask for?" She sipped her wine, then set the glass down on a side table. She threw her arms around Natsume's neck. "Why are we even talking about her, hm?"

"That's a good question," Natsume pointed out, as he untangled himself from Luna's arms. Her full, red lips protruded in a sulky pout. "Well, whatever. You said you have a proposition for me, right?"

"Yeah. Why don't we have a seat and talk about it?"

"I told you, didn't I, that we should have a soak in the Jacuzzi?" Luna smiled, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth that was either the result of good genes or expensive orthodontist work.

She crossed over to the set of doors leading to the balcony, and opened them to reveal a huge, bubbling Jacuzzi tub set on a wide platform. The balcony overlooked an impressive night scenery of the city lights. Natsume could only imagine how Mikan would react if she saw this place. She would probably scoff and mutter something about rich bastards, then look longingly at the luxurious Jacuzzi tub and secretly shriek in delight if she got a chance to soak in it. Natsume grinned as he imagined her in her swimsuit, looking as flat as a washboard, yet threaten to gouge out his eyes if she saw him looking at her. He had left her and Aoi in the hotel and made his way over to Luna's place, eager to put his plan into action.

"Did you bring a swimsuit?" Luna asked as she fiddled with the settings on the Jacuzzi.

"Nah."

"Well, you can just go in naked," she replied. "I won't look," she added, but the suggestive glint in her eyes told him otherwise.

Natsume laughed. "Whatever. It's not like it's something you've never seen before."

He took off his clothes in a swift motion and lowered himself into the warm water, a small sigh slipping out of his mouth as the water swirled over his tired muscles. "What're you waiting for?" he asked Luna, who smiled and took off her sweater and shorts slowly, provocatively with lots of unnecessary wiggles. She probably thought she looked sexy, but all Natsume thought of was 'er, okay, are you trying to imitate a chicken or something?'

She had an impressive body, Natsume had to admit, but he was not interested. Okay, maybe just slightly, since he was a man after all. He would have to be dead and buried three feet under to feel nothing, but he was sick of all these women with the same stick-thin frame and the most spectacular pair of breasts that money could buy. All he could think of was Mikan, and how she would look naked. _Urgh, I'm getting all sappy. _He shook his head to clear away those thoughts.

"So, what is that _interesting _proposition you have for me?" Luna asked, sidling closer to him.

"I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend," Natsume said.

"What?" Luna blinked. "What for?"

"Well..." Natsume thought for a moment. He didn't think Luna would be too happy if she knew how he was trying to make Mikan jealous by having Luna hanging by his side. After all, which woman wanted to be a substitute for another woman, let alone a prideful one like Luna?

"I mean, I can be your real girlfriend, you know," Luna purred, stroking a finger across his bicep. "We don't have to pretend."

"Luna." Natsume shifted uncomfortably. Luna was just a childhood friend, and he wasn't sure how he felt about being seduced by someone you grew up with in diapers. "I'm not a 'one-girlfriend' sort of guy, y'know that. We've been friends since we were, like, 6? I just need a fake girlfriend to, uh, ward off advances."

"What?" Luna looked at him as though boobs had sprouted out of his chest. "Everyone knows you're a player, and women know what they're getting into when they hook up with you. Besides, you can get anyone to be your girlfriend, even if it's a pretend girlfriend. Why me? And why do you need to _ward off advances? _Since when were you someone who rejected women's company?" She scowled a little.

"Uh, Mrs Miyazaki has been on my case, trying to get me to settle down and all that," Natsume fibbed. "You know how she is when she gets into one of her matchmaking states. She's been trying to set me up with her granddaughter. You know how I can't afford to offend her, so I thought I'd shut her up by introducing her to my supposedly serious girlfriend at that benefit she's organizing. And who'd be a more convincing candidate than my childhood friend and fellow colleague?"

Luna pursed her lips, digesting this information. She knew he made sense, but it still hurt, a little, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. She liked— no, loved— Natsume. She had, ever since she was a little kid. Yet she knew he didn't return her feelings. At least, not yet. The phrase 'give up' was not in Luna Koizumi's dictionary.

"Come on, Lu," Natsume appealed. "You know better than anyone else how scary that old lady is, and her granddaughter is a total fake."

"Fine, I'll be the angel that I am and save you from this _horrible _fate of being married to a total skank and having that battleaxe as your grandmother-in-law, but what will I get in return?" She slid further into the water, letting it bubble over her chin.

"Well, God knows you don't need any money," Natsume muttered. Not only was Luna a supermodel, she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and her parents still pampered her like mad.

"I agree," she said. "How about... hm... I'll be your girlfriend for as long as you need me to, and you'll be mine for a week."

"Yours?" Natsume looked skeptical.

"Just hang with me and stuff," Luna elaborated, pouting slightly. "I don't see you as much as I want to... You're always so busy and have no time for me. I want you to be with me for one whole week."

"Sure," Natsume agreed. He didn't read too much into it, but he expected that Luna just wanted him to hang around while she shopped and do trivial stuff like that. He could handle that. After all, she was one of his few _real_ friends, and he should be able to do so much, at least.

He stood up and stepped out of the tub. "Well, I'd better go." He dried off briskly with a folded white towel in a wicker basket and pulled on his clothes.

"So soon?" Luna looked dismayed.

"Yeah, I'll see you at the benefit. You got an invitation, right?"

"Right, but..."

"I'll pick you up at 7 next Saturday, then." Natsume stepped into the flat, then turned around, "Oh, and text me your sister's number." He didn't explain further, but merely shut the door to the balcony behind him. Luna heard a loud bang of the front door, signalling the fact that he had left. She sighed in frustration. Why? Why was Natsume always so indifferent towards her? Why wasn't he not affected at all by being in a hot tub with a naked Luna Koizumi? And why the hell did he want her sister's number? Her ego felt bruised, and she let out a yell before heaving herself out of the water and calling it a day.

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><p>"For God's sake, some people have to work to make a living, you know," Mikan insisted. "I've been out frolicking with you for far too long and I'll lose my job pretty soon if I'm late again!" She was not looking forward to seeing her new boss, but she had to face the music sooner or later.<p>

"Well, you can become my personal assistance if you're ever fired," Natsume argued. "So sit down."

"No!" Mikan gasped in horror at the thought of being at the beck and call of Mr. Arrogant-Jackass-I-May-Or-May-Not-Be-Falling-In-Love-With permanently.

"Sit!"

"I refuse to!" She scowled at him, then peered into the mirror and quickly dabbed on some BB cream. "Why are you even demanding for me to stay here?"

"Because I ordered lots of food and you're gonna finish the leftovers," he said bluntly.

Mikan merely rolled her eyes. "That sounds like an excuse. Maybe you just want me to stay by your side, eh?" She grinned teasingly at Natsume, who suddenly looked just the tiniest bit ruffled.

"Tch, you wish. Whatever, I'll see you around, when I have another task for you." Natsume's icy-cool composure returned in a second, and he waved a hand dismissively.

"What a tsundere," Mikan muttered, secretly grinning. He could be so cute at times.

"Flush the toilet before you leave, could you? You didn't flush earlier and the stench's clogging up my nostrils."

Okay, maybe not. Mikan yelled, "I flushed, you butthole!", before yanking open the door and making sure to slam it loudly behind her.

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><p>"Hey, Mikan, haven't seen you in here for a long time!" Misaki grinned, leaning over the cubicle wall that separated their desks. She chucked her a bagel, which Mikan accepted gratefully. "Natsume Hyuuga must be a real handful."<p>

"You bet," Mikan replied through a mouthful of bagel.

"A sexy, real handful though," Misaki grinned cheekily. "I'm so jealous of you!"

"Better not let Tsubasa hear that," the brunette shot back.

"Miss Sakura," a pleasant voice suddenly cut into the conversation, and Mikan almost sprayed bagel crumbs all over herself as she took in the sight of her boss standing in front of her desk, looking stunning in an Armani business suit, her long blonde hair twisted in an elegant, diamond-studded chignon. Mikan's eyes darted down to her tummy automatically, but it looked completely flat.

"Oops, sorry," Misaki mouthed apologetically before slinking back into her seat, unaware of the tension crackling in the air.

Shina smiled pleasantly at Mikan, who could only stare at her, shell-shocked. No matter how much cheering up she had received from Natsume, the pain of being betrayed still shot through her heart, and it felt as though a sliver of glass was lodged in it. She looked into the pretty face of the blonde, wondering how she could still smile like that after ripping out Mikan's heart and stomping on it with her three-inch stiletto heels.

"Your assignment for this week is to cover the Alice Centre benefit to raise awareness for saving endangered animals. As I'm sure you're aware of, many affluent people will be present, and you know how they love to see themselves in newspapers. I fully expect you to do a good write-up about the event. Here's the invitation." She held out a white envelope, and Mikan took it stiffly only after about 10 seconds.

"Sorry to interrupt, but didn't you email me saying that I'm supposed to go cover the benefit, Shina? The one organized by Mrs Miyazaki, right?" Misaki piped up, poking her head above the wall.

"I'm afraid there have been some... last-minute changes," Shina replied politely. "You'll be receiving another assignment, Miss Harada."

To Mikan, she simply nodded her head. "Well, that is all. Please do a good job on Saturday."

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><p>A bit of a filler chapter. :| And finally, a chapter that doesn't end with a cliffhanger! o-o<p> 


	16. Splat

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, thanks for the suggestions you gave in the reviews! I actually have an inkling of how the story will proceed but I'll take your feedback into consideration. ^^

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA, hoho.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 16: Splat**

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><p>"She's obviously just out to torture me," Mikan grumbled as she threw on a simple color-block shift dress. "I mean, it was Misaki's job, but she made me go at the last minute. As if it isn't enough to steal my fiance."<p>

Hotaru barely even lifted her gaze from the book about finances she was perusing.

"I told you never to trust a guy who wears leather pants," Hotaru said simply. "Oh, and do I need to mention how he uses more beauty products that the two of us combined? I say, good riddance."

Mikan had to laugh at that. She found it amazing how much the hurt had dulled, after being cheered up by Natsume and Hotaru. Okay, so they might not look like they were great Aunts Agony, what with one being a supermodel and the other being an expressionless ice-queen of the corporate world, but they were the only people who made her crappy-beyond-words life somewhat tolerable.

"Well, then, I'm off," Mikan declared dramatically. "I'll see you later, if I survive."

She picked up her purse, and marched out of the apartment determinedly. She would show Shina Koizumi. She would do such a brilliant cover of the event that Shina would grovel at her feet. Well, maybe not, but she would prove Shina wrong, and show her that she could draw a line clearly between work and personal matters.

When she arrived at the white building where the benefit was held, Mikan's face was red and sweaty. She had taken the bus, and gotten lost about four times before finally arriving at the Alice Centre. She had to run all the way to avoid being late. She paused and quickly checked her makeup in a side mirror of a red Honda parked by the curb. Oh God, she looked like a mess. Her carefully curled hair was all over the place, with random strands plastered to her face with sweat. Her face was all shiny and her eye makeup had run down her cheeks. All in all, she looked like a deranged panda, which was not a good look, even if the event she was about to attend was in fact for endangered pandas.

Groaning in frustration, Mikan fumbled in her bag for some makeup remover wipes and quickly took off her carefully-applied makeup. Then, while walking into the building, she tried her best to apply mascara on her eyes. The rest of her face would have to wait till later. Unfortunately, Mikan was not the best at multitasking, so she ended up with smudgy, clumpy lashes, but that would have to do until she found a bathroom. God, the event hadn't even begun and it was starting to go downhill. Mikan found the hall where the benefit was held, and, brandishing her notebook and pen, entered it.

The room was huge, and crowded with well-dressed people standing in clusters, chatting and laughing in the silly way people who have just had Botox laugh. Mikan felt way out of her depth, but nonetheless, she was there to do her job. She looked around hesitantly, then finally approached a portly man who was drinking champagne, and smiled brightly at him.

"Hi! I'm a reporter with The Tokyo Chronicles. May I talk to you for a few moments?"

Fifteen minutes later, Mikan was beginning to regret approaching the man. He was rambling on and on about God-knows-what. Mikan had stopped listening properly after about 2 minutes, but she was relying on her trusty Dictaphone to catch anything that she missed so that she could hopefully throw in some stuff the man was saying into her article. "Pandas are the most adorable animals on the planet. We must save them! And that is why my wife and I are great advocates for protecting endangered animals, and often contribute to such causes. In fact, today, I'm donating three hundred thousand dollars. My whole family loves pandas, and I would do anything, oh yes, _anything, _to save the pandas. In fact, the other day, my daughter organized a bake sale in her school, selling chocolate cupcakes with panda faces on them... Oh, she's such a talented girl. I..."

Mikan's eyes were glazing over, and she wanted to stuff a panda up his ass. Or maybe just yawn in his face and strut off, but Shina would murder her if that happened, and she would lose her job. With that in mind, Mikan just blinked hard to keep herself from zoning out, and nodded at random intervals to express interest. She had given up on taking notes, but the man didn't seem to notice. Mikan glanced surreptitiously around the room, hoping to see someone she knew so that she could say, "Oh, there's so-and-so! I _must _simply go and talk to him/her!"

Then she saw him, and Mikan could not believe her eyes. For once in her life, she was actually lucky. She closed her eyes and thanked God, then cut in as politely as she could, "Oh, I'm so sorry! There's Natsume, and I must simply talk to him." She smiled apologetically. "Thank you so much for your time. It has been such a pleasure talking to you." Before the man could say anything else, Mikan bowed her head and quickly made a beeline towards the tall, dark-haired man standing about five metres away from her. He was talking to a woman with so much work done to her face that it looked as though it would break with a single tap. However, nothing could conceal the wrinkles around the corners of her eyes, and the slightly saggy skin on her face. Her hair was dyed red, but the roots were a dirty-grey color, and she was wearing a red Couture Dior gown that was way too young for her. Her makeup looked odd as well- pale, Barbie-pink lipstick sunk into the tiny wrinkles around her mouth and scary smoky eyes that made her look as though she had been punched in both eyes. On the other hand, Natsume looked absolutely breath-taking, in a simple black suit with two buttons unbuttoned, his dark-blue tie undone and hanging around his neck.

"Hey!" Mikan said, relieved to find a familiar face in the sea of intimidating rich people.

Natsume looked blankly at her, and for a terrifying moment she was afraid he would claim that he didn't know her, but the corner of his lips pulled up by about a millimetre.

"Hey, didn't expect to see you here."

"Who's this, my dear?" the woman looked curiously at Mikan, narrowing her eyes critically at Mikan's messy hair which she had tried to salvage (unsuccessfully) by twisting it into a bun, and her sloppy mascara. Mikan felt as though she was an unidentified species, being examined by an alien.

"Well..." Natsume glanced at Mikan, whose heart leaped. _What is he going to introduce me as? _Her heart thumped.

"An acquaintance," he finished, and Mikan couldn't help the disappointed look that came over her face. Of course, she was just an acquaintance. What was she expecting? She wasn't even his _friend. _"Mikan Sakura, this is Mrs Miyazaki."

"Oh, well," Mrs Miyazaki said. "Anyway, I've been meaning to introduce you to my granddaughter. You know Riko, don't you?" She continued, as though Mikan was not even there. "She's such a lovely girl, and she's single."

Mikan didn't know what to feel, standing there like an extra while this weird old lady was trying to set Natsume up with her granddaughter. Then Natsume caught her eye, and made such an incredulous face that she had to stifle a giggle.

"Uh, well, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," he said primly, and Mikan had to hastily convert a snort into a cough.

Mrs Miyazaki's face contorted into a weird shape, and Mikan was honestly quite frightened until she realized that the old lady was trying to raise an eyebrow, but the Botox and whatever junk she had in her face hindered her from doing so. "Well, I'm trying to suggest that you ask her out to dinner, Natsume. She has quite a few suitors, of course, but I want her to have only the best."

"I'm flattered," Natsume said flatly in a tone that indicated he was not the least bit flattered. "But I'm afraid I'll have to reject your kind offer, Mrs Miyazaki."

She pursed her lips. "It's not healthy to keep playing the field, young man. It's the best to settle down, and get married early. It's high time for you to get a serious girlfriend, my dear. Not one of those skanky women you like to hang around with so much."

Mikan noticed that Natsume shuddered at the mere mention of the dreaded M-word. She knew he was a womanizer, but to _physically _shudder at the mere thought of getting married? She felt a bit numb, but she didn't know why. She stared at her shoes- a pair of black slingback pumps with three-inch heels.

"Actually, I do have one," Natsume murmured. "A serious girlfriend, I mean."

Mikan looked up so quickly she got a crick in her neck, and she had to stifle a groan. He did? Since when? She bit her bottom lip so hard she could almost taste blood, and a sour feeling came over her.

"Don't try and lie to me, Natsume," Mrs Miyazaki chided. "I've known you for years, and have never seen you with a girl for more than two weeks!"

"Well, I do now," Natsume replied, shrugging. "She can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I think she's cute. She may be weird sometimes, but she's unique that way." Natsume paused, then glanced at Mikan briefly before turning his gaze back onto the lady in front of him. Mikan's heart thumped, and almost leaped out of her throat. What did that glance mean?

"She doesn't like me for my money or my body." _Thump._

"She likes me for who I am. Even if I can be a bit of an ass to her sometimes." _Badump. _

"Oh, she's there," Natsume said casually. "Let me introduce her to you." Mikan heard high heels clicking on the floor, but she did not dare to look up. "This is Luna Koizumi."

_Splat._ At the moment, Mikan felt as though her heart had fallen onto the ground, exposed for the whole world to see. She looked up, and felt as though a knife was stabbed through her heart, her head. Natsume had his arm around a beautiful strawberry-blonde, and she was leaning against him comfortably, holding an empty champagne flute, her other arm wrapped around his waist, staking claim.

"Hn, I suppose I shall have to let this go, then," Mrs Miyazaki said grudgingly. "You two are a good match. Childhood friends and all that, eh? Never mind then. Do you suppose Ruka Nogi is available? I told you, I simply want the best for my darling Riko."

"No," Mikan heard a shaky voice interrupt, and it took her brain about five seconds to realize that she was the one who had spoken up. She cleared her throat, and in a scratchy voice, she managed to say, "I mean, uh, my friend Hotaru is... um... seeing him. I... think." God, how pathetic was that? She fell silent, and could feel three pairs of eyes penetrating her, and she felt like the biggest fool on Earth.

"I must go mingle with the other guests," Mrs Miyazaki said curtly at last. "I'll see you later, Natsume, Luna."

With that, she walked away and disappeared into the throngs of people. Mikan almost shot out a hand to grab her and scream, "Don't leave me! Don't leave me with these two!" But she had to retain what few shreds of dignity she had left.

"Darling, we must simply go and visit Nobara some time. Did you know she had a baby?" Luna was saying to Natsume, as though Mikan was not even there.

"No, I didn't know that. We should go next weekend, yeah? After we grab some lunch at the usual place?"

Well, obviously, Luna was not just a groupie. She wasn't just one of those girls Natsume screwed and threw to one side. She was something more, she was special. And Mikan was nothing. Standing there, watching the two of them flirt, touching each other like it was the most natural thing on Earth and reminiscing about the past, Mikan realized she had never felt so alone and cold and invisible all her life before.

"Well!" Mikan said in an overly shrill voice that was shaky with nerves and suppressed emotions. "It's good to meet you tonight. I have to go..."

She almost said that she had to go interview some more people, but she realized how pathetic that sounded. Natsume was here with a beautiful, serious girlfriend, and Mikan was here with a notebook and pen, with disheveled hair and makeup. She could just imagine the two talking about her after she went away, talking about how silly she was. She could just imagine Natsume saying, "And she even thought that by 'serious girlfriend', I was referring to her!" And Luna would laugh and slap Natsume on the chest playfully and he would... _No, _Mikan thought, clutching her notebook so tightly that the edges crumpled slightly.

"My date's over there. I shouldn't keep him waiting." Mikan finished on impulse, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the long, luxurious buffet tables. Her cheeks flamed, and she hoped her hair would conceal her cheeks. She could almost feel her nose growing longer after telling such a ridiculous lie. What date? A date with the chocolate eclairs? She turned and walked away quickly, humiliated.

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><p>Oh my God, I just realized that in Chapter 1, the woman Natsume dumped also has the last name Miyazaki. XD It's purely a coincidence!<p> 


	17. Honk

**Author's Note: **Almost 200 reviews? o_o Oh God, thank you guys so much! Even though I've been so crappy at updating and everything... -sniffs- I'm really sorry for taking so long, but my major end-year exams are coming up in a a couple of weeks and I have to mug like crazy because I totally screwed up my Math paper previously. ;_; Please don't hate me.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gakuen Alice.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 17: Honk**

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><p>Mikan wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She prayed that a meteor would crash into the place and blast them all up. She wished for an earthquake. Anything, anything at all, to avoid the utter humiliation that was about to follow after her big fat mouth decided to blabber that she had a date. She tottered towards the buffet table, acutely aware of Natsume and Luna's eyes piercing into her back.<p>

Mikan wondered if she could just find a decent-looking guy to make small talk with, and pretend that she actually was on a date with him. She looked around wildly for someone who was under the age of 50 and still had a full head of hair. She then spotted a blonde head in the distance, and it seemed to belong to a guy who was quite well-built, and young enough to actually pass off as someone date-able. Mikan made a beeline towards him, and realized that he was talking to someone.

"I still don't know why you did that," he was saying to a middle-aged, dark-haired man.

"Well, that wasn't one of my wisest moves, I have to admit that," the other man replied, sighing.

Mikan started to back away, feeling rather intimidated, but she was pushed forward by a large lady bursting in a white Christian Dior suit. "Oops, sorry!" she said cheerfully.

Mikan stumbled forward, tripping over her high heels, right in between the two men who were now staring at her as though she was an alien species. "Um, hi!" she mumbled awkwardly, and gratefully accepted the hand offered to her.

She looked up and saw the man that was attached to the hand, and her eyebrows almost flew off her face in surprise. "Mr Ruka Nogi, right?" Natsume's best friend, top model and Hotaru's business partner.

"Uh, yes..." the blonde replied, then realization dawned over his handsome face. "Wait, you're Miss Imai's flatmate, right? We've met before briefly."

The other man muttered a goodbye and melted into the crowd.

"That's right," Mikan smiled. She hoped Natsume couldn't see Ruka's face, and thought she was actually with her date. She stole a glance in Natsume's direction, and saw him looking directly at her, his chiseled face expressionless. Judging by his expression, he hadn't realized that the man she was talking to was indeed his best friend. Ruka followed the direction of her gaze.

"Oh, it's Natsume. I haven't talked to him yet..." He started to walk towards him, but Mikan shot out an arm and grabbed his jacket sleeve.

"Um, wait. I... Uh..." He couldn't go. Mikan couldn't give Natsume the satisfaction of seeing her dateless.

"What's going on?" Ruka asked kindly. She looked into his gentle face and mentally approved of his as Hotaru's boyfriend. How could such a gentleman be friends with a crude boar like Natsume? The world was indeed full of mysteries.

"Um, I... uh, accidentally told Natsume I... had a date," she whispered softly.

Ruka looked confused, then he looked at his best friend. He took in the busty blonde hanging off his arm, simpering at him, and he understood the situation immediately. Another one of his idiotic best friend's tricks. He rolled his eyes, then smiled at the blushing girl in front of him. This was the girl whom Natsume lied to, he suddenly remembered. The one who thought Natsume was infertile. What was Natsume playing at? _That guy... _Ruka made a mental note to lecture Natsume later.

"Say, do you wanna pay him back for this? Tit for tat, they say," Ruka grinned.

"What?" Mikan looked bewildered.

"It doesn't look as though Natsume has recognized me, so let's have a little fun with him, shall we? Make him jealous... make him get a taste of his own medicine?"

"I... I'm not jealous!" Mikan protested, her cheeks flaming. But even then she knew that she _was _jealous. Why else would she feel so determined to show him she had a date? Why else would her heart feel so heavy, knowing that he was together with Luna?

Over on the other end, Natsume was almost boring a hole in Mikan's skull by staring so intently. Or, to be exact, the skull of the man she was talking to, since his stupid blonde head was blocking his vision. He watched as the man, whose face he could not see, bent down and whispered into her ear. Mikan's face was bright red. Natsume felt an irrational urge to walk up and smash the guy's head into the ground. Who the hell did he think he was? Only Natsume could make Mikan Sakura blush. That guy was still a million years too early.

"Darling?" Luna was pulling on his arm. "Come on, let's go dance!"

Now Mikan was laughing at something the dude was saying, and she had a hand on his shoulder. Okay, this was getting out of hand. Natsume was the only one who could make her laugh so hard.

Mikan was laughing nervously, and she asked awkwardly, "Um, why are we doing this? Natsume won't be jealous. I'm not _that _thick-skinned."

Ruka just laughed. "Trust me on this. I bet he'd pay a million bucks to come over and clean the floor with my face right now."

Mikan chuckled, but she was still doubtful. There was no way he would feel jealous. The only reason why he might be upset would be that he couldn't see her humiliated, and that he couldn't tease her.

"Though I must say he's spending quite a bit of effort on you... First that, and now this. He must be really interested in you."

"What?" Mikan blinked.

"We all know Natsume changes girlfriends as quickly as he changes clothes, right? But now he's doing all sorts of things to get your attention. That has to mean something, at least," Ruka smiled wryly. Then his face turned serious. "Doesn't mean I approve of everything he does, though."

Ruka looked at the innocent girl in front of him, and wondered how Natsume could bring himself to lie and make use of such a sweet person. He wouldn't be the one to bust his chops, of course not. He was not the kind of person to rat a friend out, no matter how infantile he was. Besides, it wasn't his call to make; Natsume was the one who had to own up to his lie and apologize. The truth _would _come out, sooner or later. He just hoped that this poor girl would be able to take it.

The two chatted for a few more minutes, before a flamboyant blonde in a purple velvet waistcoat twirled up to Ruka and clasped his arm.

"Ruka! Am I glad to see you! I've been trying to look for you for the past ten minutes! Now, we simply must talk about that nasty scandal..." He launched into a conversation with Ruka, not even realizing that Mikan was there.

"Narumi... I'm a bit, um, occupied right now," Ruka tried to intercept. "Here, meet Miss Mikan Sakura. Miss Sakura, this is Narumi Anju."

Narumi paused, and glanced up and down at Mikan. "Ah, yes, I remember you. That reporter who made Natsume so mad, right?" he chuckled. "Though I must say, the way he got back at you was _so _delightful. Ah, yes, it was!"

A warning bell rang in Ruka's head, and he tried to catch Narumi's eye, but the ditzy manager was clueless to the death glares Ruka was shooting at him.

"You mean, how he made me his slave?" Mikan pulled a face.

Ruka stared harder and harder at Narumi, but he was oblivious and continued to plough on, unaware of the World War III that he was about to spark off.

"Oh, yes! Though it really amazes me how you actually believed that a guy can get infertile from a little kick like that at first! I bet you had a good laugh afterwards!" Narumi laughed heartily. "We're way tougher than that, aren't we, eh, Ruka?" He winked at the shell-shocked model, who wanted to strangle Narumi at that very moment, and was also planning for his best friend's funeral in his mind. Natsume was going to be so dead.

"What?" Mikan blinked.

"Oh, come on!" Narumi grinned, twirling the matching purple parasol he had in his hand. "Don't tell me you didn't guess that it was a joke?"

At that moment, a young woman in a green wrap dress beckoned to Narumi from a few feet away, calling out, "Naru! Naru! Over here! I have the latest gossip, you're not going to believe this..."

"Oops! Duty calls. I'll catch you later, adieu!" Narumi flounced over to the woman, who was grinning madly from ear to ear.

"He's quite the social butterfly, that Narumi. Weird guy, really," Ruka said brightly, trying to change the topic quickly. But Mikan was not about to get sidetracked so easily. Oh yes, she might have a short attention span. She might be on Team Edward in one moment and Team Jacob the next. But she was not one to get manipulated.

"What did he mean?" Mikan asked quietly.

"What?" Ruka cocked his head, looking at her blankly with his sky-blue eyes.

"You must know," Mikan said, her voice wobbling slightly. "You're his best friend."

"Me? Best friends with Narumi?" Ruka laughed shortly. "Try being friends with someone who insists you call him 'darling' and wear matching velvet pants with him."

Mikan might have laughed, but she knew better. "Ruka-kun. Please. You know what I mean. You know _who _I mean." She looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading.

Ruka sighed, and ran a hand through his floppy hair. "Don't put me in a spot, Miss Sakura. I can't tell you anything. I can't rat him out. Even if he's a bigot."

"If you won't tell me, then I'll tell you," Mikan stated. "Did Natsume lie to me right from the beginning? He's not infertile at all, is he? He's just making a fool out of me, isn't he? He thinks I'm this huge, idiotic fool who is stupid enough to believe that he's infertile. Am I right?"

Ruka couldn't quite meet her blazing gaze, and that was all the answer that she needed.

"Wow." Mikan took a step backwards. Her humiliation earlier was nothing compared to what she felt now. She felt like a complete, utter fool, and she guessed that was just what she was. Who in the right mind would believe that a little kick to the balls would make someone infertile? If that was true, wouldn't most of the male population not be able to celebrate Fathers' Day? She thought back to how guilty, how upset she had been when he told her he was infertile. Guilty enough to be his slave. And it turned out that all he wanted was to wind her up, make a joke out of her. He was your typical a-hole billionaire, looking for some fun, some entertainment, in his boring, I'm-so-rich-I-have-nothing-better-to-do life. And guess what? Mikan Sakura, the gullible idiot, provided him just that. An amusing, silly girl who gave him something to occupy his time with.

She didn't mean anything at all. She was just a toy, a joke. It was no surprise at all, really, considering his reputation. What surprised her was how long it took for her to figure this out.

"Can you...' Mikan swallowed, feeling as though a sliver of glass was lodged in her throat. "Can you please not tell Natsume that I already know? Please?"

Ruka looked at her, her brown eyes blinking fiercely, and nodded slowly. "All right, I promise you."

Mikan nodded her thanks, then forced her way out of the crowd, ignoring Ruka's pleas to just stop and listen. What did it matter now? It was all lies, anyway. She bolted for the exit, stumbling slightly in her heels, but she just did not care anymore.

Natsume, who was looking at everything that was happening, suddenly saw Mikan bolting towards the door, dragging a hand across her eyes. Was she crying? What was wrong? Did that bastard hurt her? Subconsciously, he felt himself being pulled towards the exit, towards her.

"Natsume? What's wrong?" Luna protested as Natsume started walking briskly towards Mikan.

"Mikan!" He called out. She turned around, and her eyes were puffy. Why was she crying? Natsume started to take a step towards her, but Mikan cried out, "Stay away!"

The crowd was beginning to stare at the drama unfolding before them, but Natsume didn't care. All he cared about right now was her. As Mikan started running again, Natsume chased after her, with Luna trailing behind, confused.

The trio came out of the building, and Mikan looked hastily for an escape route.

"Wait, can't you just tell me what the hell is going on?" Natsume growled in frustration.

"No! Go away!" Mikan yelled, the hurt still raw in her chest. The hurt from his lies, his manipulation, the past few days' drama... it all seeped into her soul and made her heart ache so much all she wanted to do was to lay down, curl into a ball and shut the world out.

She just wanted to get away from him.

Against her better judgement, she saw an opening in the busy road and quickly dashed across, ignoring the angry horns, the swerving cars, the screeching brakes.

"What are you doing?" Natsume hollered. "Damn it!"

He dashed after her, wanting to pull her back before she got run over like grass by a lawnmower. In his eyes, he could only see the weak, fragile, shaking girl in front of him. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and protect her. The urge to reach her, to hold her, was so strong that it blocked out everything else. The angry swear words the enraged drivers were hurling at them. The screeching brakes. The furious honking of cars.

The blinding glow of the headlights of a red car, headed straight for him.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Something hard shoved him out of the way, out of danger's way.

Something, or rather, someone, who was now sprawled on the road, her long legs at an awkward angle, her long strawberry blonde curls fanned out around her head, out of which bright crimson blood was oozing.

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><p>YES, IN ONE MONTH I WILL BE FREE. FREE FROM THE CLUTCHES OF THE HELL CALLED EXAMS. And I'll be able to update more then. ;)<p> 


	18. Rage

**Author's Note:** I PASSED MATH. HALLELUJAH. I literally got exactly double my previous score, HAHAHA. Which goes to show how badly I screwed up previously. And sorry for not not uploading earlier. I actually joined a manga scanlation team a while ago and I'm helping to translate manga and stuff heheh.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA!

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

**Chapter 18: Rage**

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><p>Mikan had lost count of how many hours they had been sitting there outside the operating theater. Well, she was sitting, at least. Natsume was pacing up and down the length of the room, occasionally leaning against a wall or collapsing into one of the hard plastic chairs, then springing straight up and walking all over again. Mikan watched as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his face tight with frustration. Earlier, he had scared away all the reporters and paparazzi who had swooped in, eager to get a scoop first-hand by threatening to pour boiling coffee all over them. Since he had a look of pure unmasked rage in his bloodshot eyes, and the police had been roped in as well, all those reporters had fled for their lives and Mikan knew they were likely camping out outside the hospital. She was, after all, a reporter herself.<p>

"Look, why don't I get you a coffee or something?" Mikan asked hesitantly. She had no idea what he was thinking, and it seemed dangerous to approach him right now. She also needed a distraction. She needed to do something, something to make her forget the fact that it was _her _who caused the accident.

Natsume did not reply. He merely stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Mikan sprang up and walked briskly to the coffee machine nearby. She popped in a few coins shakily, and waited for the machine to fill the Styrofoam cup with brown liquid.

"Here." She held out the cup unsteadily to Natsume, who didn't even bother to look at her.

After a few more seconds of holding out the cup like an idiot, Mikan gave up. "I'm sorry. I know you're mad at me. And I... I'm really, really sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to cause the accident." By now, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was sobbing so hard that coffee was slopping out of the cup, scalding her hand.

Natsume remained silent.

"It's not your fault," he finally said, an edge of anger in his voice. "It was mine, okay? She was trying to push me out of the way. It was _my _fault. I landed Luna in this state. If anything happened to her, I..." He sucked in a deep, shaky breath.

Mikan looked at him in horror. No, why was he blaming himself? Why was he not blaming her? She was the one who had gotten mad and jealous like a clingy bitch, and ran off, prompting him to chase after her. She was so tense and afraid that all the anger at Natsume for lying had been wiped out from her mind temporarily. All her mental energy was invested into praying for Luna. Okay, so Luna may be an annoying little witch, and Mikan admittedly loathed her, but for God's sake, she didn't deserve to _die. _

"Natsume, no, it was... Okay, so maybe it's not my fault," she amended, unconvincingly. "But if it's not my fault, then it's not yours either, okay? It was an accident. None of us asked for this. It just... happened."

"Can you just shut up?" Natsume exploded, stunning Mikan into silence. "It's my fucking fault! I'm completely responsible for this, okay? So can you just shut the hell up?"

Mikan looked away, shakily. He had never shouted at her like that, and honestly, she hated the fact that she couldn't blame him either. The hotheaded side of her wanted to burst out and yell, "You have no right to yell at me after lying to me for months, okay, you lying little jackass?" But she controlled herself. She wasn't despicable enough to hit him where it hurts at such a time, when he was already hurting so badly. However, that did not mean she was going to let things go either. She _would _confront him when the time was right. When she had gotten her feelings in check.

At that moment, the red light above the door of the operating theater flicked off, and the door opened. A doctor dressed in green was coming out, pulling off his surgical mask.

"How... how was it?" Natsume was beside him in two seconds.

Mikan clasped her hands together, praying. _Please... please don't say "we did our best"... Please let Luna be fine, or Natsume will never forgive himself... And neither will I._

"The operation was a success," the doctor said calmly, and both Mikan and Natsume let out a huge sigh of relief.

"The patient is out of danger for now. She has a mild concussion, a few superficial cuts and a fractured right leg and arm. She will need to be kept under observation for a few days, but I anticipate that she will be discharged within the week. She will need to come back for further treatments for her leg and arm, of course, but the details will be arranged later."

"Thank you, doctor." Natsume's tense shoulders sagged visibly in relief. "Can we go and see her yet?"

"The patient is still unconscious from the anesthesia. I would suggest you return later," the doctor advised, before nodding in dismissal and moving away.

"So... thank God she's fine," Mikan said awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

For the first time since they stepped into the hospital, the frown dropped from Natsume's face. "Yeah."

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><p>A couple of hours later, after the pair had gone home to shower and change, they met up outside Luna's hospital ward. When Natsume pushed open the door, Mikan braced herself for what she might see. Would she be all wrapped up like a mummy? Luna was awake, grimacing at her bandaged arm. Her right leg was put in a cast, and propped on the blue sheets of the single bed. The top of her head was swathed in white bandage, and her cheeks were covered with a few pieces of gauze. Despite all these, she still looked unfairly beautiful, as though she was modelling for a hospital.<p>

"How are you, Lu?" Natsume put the huge bouquet of stunning taupe roses dotted with bits of starry white flowers and leaves on her lap, and the basket of fruits on the bedside table.

"Not so great," Luna scowled, prodding her injured leg. "Probably won't be able to walk runways for quite a bit now. _If _I ever can walk again."

"The doctor said it was nothing major," Natsume assured her. "You _will _be able to, okay? So long as you take good care of yourself. I'll make sure you do."

Luna's expression softened. "But I saved you, so it's all worth it, even if I'm never going to walk again." Noticing the pained expression on Natsume's face, she added, "I said _if. _I know I can, definitely. With you by my side. Don't beat yourself up about it, okay, Natsume? Or I'll feel even worse."

Mikan felt odd and awkward, listening to this mushy conversation that was dripping with so much sweetness that it knocked those lethal macarons Mikan once had right off the charts. She would much rather dunk her head in the toilet and never come up again than continue playing the gooseberry she so obviously was.

Luna reached over to the side table for a jar of water, but winced. "Ow, my arm. And my side."

"I'll do it." Natsume was pouring out a glass of water in a split second, which he handed to Luna. She smiled gratefully and accepted the glass with her non-bandaged arm.

"You'll need a lot of help while you recover," Natsume was saying with a frown. "I'll be worried if you continued living alone in that big apartment of yours while you're all injured. You should stay with me until your arm and leg get better. What do you say?"

Luna appeared to consider his offer, but Mikan could just see the glint in her blue eyes. "Well... I wouldn't want to be a burden, an inconvenience..."

"You won't. We'll be happy to have you, Aoi and I. And Mikan here can help you. Won't you?" He shot Mikan a look that said 'if you say no, I swear I will dig out your eyeballs'.

"Of course," Mikan said tightly, even though she felt like screaming, "I owe you nothing, you prick. _Nothing. _I didn't make you infertile. You deserved that kick in the balls." But she held her tongue. The cruel part of her chanted almost savagely, "Play along... then take revenge. Make him pay. No one messes with Mikan Sakura and gets away scot-free." Yet the stubborn, lovesick part of her mind was still clinging on desperately to the wisps of hope that maybe Natsume would admit that he lied, apologize and... something. She didn't know what exactly she wanted.

Oh, hell. Why was she still denying it, even to herself? She wanted Natsume to apologize and tell her he had fallen in love with her. Even as she thought those words, she felt her heart throb so hard she literally had to clutch at her chest. She had fallen in love with Natsume, even though she could hardly even admit it to herself. That was why she felt so jealous when he turned up with Luna hanging off his arm at the benefit. That was the feeling she felt back at the amusement park, when she had the time of her life just hanging out with him. Somewhere, somehow, his stupid smart-ass comments, the way he always saved her ass at the crucial times, the way he sometimes looked at her without a teasing expression on his face, the way he could be so sweet to her and his sister... they had cut straight through to her heart, leaving her with a pang in her chest and the realization that she had fallen in love. With him. With the lying pig of a manwhore.

What surprised her was how long she took to realize it. The piercing pain in her heart when he told her off and spoke harshly to her for Luna's sake, when he looked as though he wouldn't live if Luna died, only served to confirm this fact. _Why _did she have to realize this right now, when he was preoccupied with another woman, when she just found out that he had been toying with her?

"Oh, I wouldn't want to trouble you, Mikan-chan," Luna simpered in a voice that instantly turned Mikan's stomach. This woman was _trouble._ She was out to make life hell for Mikan, ever since the day she turned up with Natsume at the fashion show, ever since Natsume showed interest in her.

"Hell, she's my slave. She has no say in this. Once you're discharged, you'll stay at my place until you get better," Natsume said, oblivious to the challenging note in Luna's voice.

"Well, then. I'll be in your care from now on, _Mikan-chan._" Luna smiled, and the way she emphasized on Mikan's name made it sound as though she wanted to say, 'You bitch.' But Mikan forced herself to return an equally phony smile.

Later, the doctor returned with the news that Luna could be discharged in a week. Mikan could just tell that life in a week would be a bundle of fun. Yippee.

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><p>"Oh, this room is perfect," Luna gushed as Natsume pushed her wheelchair into a guestroom on the ground floor of his mansion. Mikan was standing stonily by his side, still wondering about what the hell she was going to do with her feelings. Maybe she would just wait until Luna recovered, see how things went. Trouble was, she had a feeling things would not go very smoothly.<p>

Her bad feeling proved to be true just ten minutes later. Luna wanted to take a bath, but obviously could not manage on her own. Natsume had ordered Mikan to help her, and she grudgingly agreed. After all, bitch or not, Mikan could not help feeling a bit sorry for the glamorous model who could now no longer bathe herself. Mikan turned the silver tap on, filling the luxurious bath, as Luna sat in her wheelchair by the side of the tub.

"What flavor bubble bath do you want?" she asked, examining the row of expensive bottles lined on the side of the tub. "There's rose, lavender, eucalyptus, vanilla..."

"Okay, just cut the crap," Luna interrupted.

"What?" Mikan asked, bewildered, lifting her eyes from the cursive script on the bottles.

"You know what." Luna rolled her eyes impatiently, as though Mikan was some kind of dimwit who had just escaped from the loony bin. "Natsume Hyuuga is mine, okay? He's _mine._ You're way out of his league. So do us all a favor and keep your filthy hands _off_ him."

Before Mikan even knew what was happening, Luna had pushed herself off her wheelchair and slammed into the tub at an awkward angle, half in the water and half on the cold marble floor of the palatial bathroom. Her wheelchair spun backwards. She let out a loud yelp of pain, and a sob. The bathroom door burst open, and Natsume stood in the doorway, his face contorted with concern.

"What the heck happened?" He demanded, looking at Mikan, who was still shell-shocked. One moment, she had been rattling off the names of the different bubble baths and next, she was being ranted at and Luna was slammed into the tub.

"N-Natsume-kun..." Luna was sniveling as he carefully lifted her. "I... I don't know what happened or why, but... but... Mikan-chan... She... she pushed me in on purpose! Oh, it hurts!"

Looking at the unmasked rage and confusion on Natsume's face, Mikan knew for sure that things were going to go very badly indeed.

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><p>Please pardon the crappy injury thing. I'm not an expert in medicine or whatever, so I'm just basing everything on my imagination and stuff. Not entirely satisfied with this chapter... but it'll have to do for now. I'm thinking I will probably edit everything once I'm finished with this story. I have a plot for the ending in mind! I just need time to plan and write it all out, so thank you for being patient with me. :)<p>

Oh, and HAPPY (LATE) THANKSGIVING to all who celebrate it. I'm thankful for you wonderful readers out there! :D


	19. Crunch

**Author's Note: **Sorry, guys! I've been really busy. :( But let me tell you a story to make it up to you: I wore my shirt inside out all the way to school— on the bus and everything— and had no idea at all until my friend finally noticed during second period and told me. OTL I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. People must have thought I was such an idiot.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA!

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

Chapter 19: Crunch

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><p>Bewildered, Mikan could only choke out, "I didn't! She did it by herself!" But even as the words left her mouth, she knew Natsume would not believe her.<p>

"Could you at least come up with a more convincing lie?" Natsume snorted. His face was pinched, and he looked at Mikan with a hostility that shocked her. "Oh, it makes perfect sense that someone would just make herself fall down. Of course."

Mikan felt something snap inside of her. Why the hell was she getting insulted by this prick for no rhyme or reason? And just what was wrong with this Luna Koizumi? What had Mikan ever done to make her so hated and loathed by the supermodel in question? What had Mikan ever done to her, so much so that she wanted to frame her, set her up? Wait... set her up? Mikan trembled with anger. With a sudden burst of clarity, she just _knew _that Luna was the one who had set her up during that Prada show.

Narumi's voice rang in her head like a record player. _'Didn't Luna bring the shoes and dress to you earlier?'_

Luna's sickly sweet smile when pushing all the blame to her, that Mikan now realized was tinged with a hint of triumph and malice, for it was the exact same smile she had on right now.

Luna's thinly-veiled irritation at her right after Natsume had saved her out on the runway.

They all pointed to one thing: Luna was the culprit.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because she's a stinking, lying little bitch who wants you for herself and sees me as a threat?" At first, Mikan truly had no idea who said that. Then, as soon as she realized that those mean words had come out through her lips, she clapped a hand over her mouth and just stood there in horror. No, she could not have been the one who said that. Mikan Sakura was a nice girl. A quiet, good girl who let others pick on her. She could not have said those things.

But then she knew she did, because Natsume was snarling in her face, "You don't know _anything _about her. I dare you to say that again."

"She set me up!" Mikan roared in frustration. "And I'm pretty sure she's the one who got me into trouble at the Prada show too! There's no way my dress would just tear randomly and my feet would start itching right after I put on those shoes!"

"Don't blame her for your own klutziness and the fact that your feet are disgusting!" Natsume threw right back.

Mikan felt a pang of hurt. Disgusting?

"You know what? You sound just like a complete babbling idiot right now. So do us all a favor and just get the fuck out of here, okay?" Natsume's chiseled features were twisted into one of disgust, directed at her.

"Fine," Mikan said, suddenly tired of everything. Tired of being the good girl, the nice girl whom people thought they could just cast away like so much rubbish once they had gotten bored of her, found someone better. She was just... so done. She blinked hard to keep the tears at bay. She would rather eat her own socks than to give these two the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"You know what? Just don't regret it. Staying with this two-faced bitch, that is. Oh, wait. Scratch that. You two _deserve _each other. You... damned _liar_." She spit out the last word with emphasis, glaring at Natsume. "I... I hope you two get run over by a truck, and collide with each other in the air." With that, Mikan swirled around and stalked out of the bathroom, praying to God that she would not trip and fall on her face. Her face burned as she thought of her last sentence. What was _that _for? But for once, she didn't trip or even stumble.

Mikan felt triumphant and oddly satisfied as she slammed her way out of the house, but as soon as she was outside, her bubbly mood burst like what happened to the giant blister she got on her toe that time she wore the cheap, knock-off Converse sneakers she got online. She trekked down the long, winding driveway. _If it rained right now, it would be the worst cliche ever in the history of cliches, _she thought. The sun just beat down cheerfully though, which made Mikan even more irritated, for some reason. Now that the adrenaline from bursting out, she felt lost and empty. Which was ridiculous. She should feel angry, furious, mad. She should be frothing with rage, with the desire to burst right into the house and throw a stink bomb into their faces. He had lied to her, played with her and insulted her to her face, for God's sake. In fact, she was pretty sure she had the right to impale his manhood with her spiky heels again. He deserved it.

Instead, every step she took felt like a dull, throbbing ache in her stomach, like someone was squeezing it. She managed to head home to her apartment with that numb feeling inside of her.

"Hotaru?" she whispered, but the echoing silence told her that her friend was not at home. She felt like a puppet being held up by a few strings, moving around the apartment without processing anything. She took a shower on autopilot. She made and drank a herbal tea without tasting it. And then, as she was staring blankly at the microwave in which she had placed her dinner— leftover teriyaki chicken—, the memory of making the disastrous dinner for Natsume popped into her head. She could still hear his sarcastic voice, asking, _"What is this supposed to be, poop?"_ And then she realized why she felt so empty.

It was because she had lost him.

It was over.

Lost.

Over.

_Finito._

Not that they really had anything in the first place. He wasn't her boyfriend. They weren't a couple. What were they? Acquaintances, really. Acquaintances who were entwined together in a messy tangle of lies and complications, with little sizzles of attraction between them that she could not deny. But when it came to the crunch, she was really just someone he had just met, someone who could never hold a candle to his beautiful old friend.

_It was just a brief encounter between two strangers that should never have happened, _she thought fiercely. _And now it's over. Move on. Move on. Move _on.

Mikan was still chanting this mantra over and over out loud when the door clicked shut, and Hotaru appeared in the kitchen, looking blankly at Mikan.

"If I were you, I would move to the microwave right now, because your food is becoming fossilized," she informed Mikan in her usual matter-of-fact, monotonous yet melodious voice.

"Oh my God!" Mikan finally noticed the smoke pouring out of the microwave oven, and quickly turned it off before the whole house burnt down.

"Would you care to explain why you put thirty minutes on the setting?" Hotaru inquired.

Suddenly, a surge of emotion overcame Mikan, who burst into tears right there and then, in front of the microwave which was still spewing smoke.

"It's just a burnt dinner," Hotaru said calmly, as though it was perfectly normal for her best friend to bawl like a baby all of a sudden. "We could always get pizza."

Mikan's response to this was just to cry harder. To her surprise, the usually cold and stoic Hotaru put a hand on her head and patted it.

"I'm feeling generous today, so I'll treat you. Go clean up, you look like snot machine just exploded in your face. And you know you look twice as ugly when you cry, right?"

* * *

><p>"So it's really over?" Ruka questioned his sulky best friend, who was swirling his glass of vodka absentmindedly. Ruka had received a call from Natsume, who ranted until Ruka finally relented and agreed to escape his work for a while to drink with him. Now, they were at the bar at Ruka and Hotaru's restaurant. The restaurant was mostly empty though, which was a good thing, what with them being public figures.<p>

"Of course it is," Natsume slurred. Ruka winced as he watched his best friend down his liquor in one shot. He was going to get a monster hangover the next day if he didn't stop soon. "She... freaking called Luna a... bitch. A two-faced bitch. And you know how indebted I am to her. I won't let anyone insult her."

Ruka nodded. He knew the story, obviously. But Natsume continued anyway. "When my mom died when I was 15, her family took Aoi and me in. They had no obligations— we weren't related in any way. But they did. We were just longtime neighbors. But she took us in, gave us a roof over our heads, food, everything. I hated them, hated everything, and I wasn't exactly reticent about my thoughts. I lashed out, often. Once, I even set the shed on fire." He let out a bitter laugh.

"They didn't even blink an eye though, and that made me hate them even more. And then Luna... brought me to my senses. She screamed at me, telling me that if I was just lashing out to get attention, I might as well go get a sex-change operation because there's no way in hell she was going to give me that attention otherwise. I think... that made me wake up. Everyone was being such a pushover, being nice to me even when I didn't deserve it, that it just made me even madder. But not her.

And when Aoi was bullied in school and I was too much of a coward to stand up for her, to associate myself with her because I was one of the cool kids..." He winced at the memory. "... she did it for me. She knocked out the teeth of those assholes when I wasn't there to do it. Can't you see?"

"She's always been feisty," Ruka agreed. "But she can be a little... manipulative sometimes, can't she?" He added carefully. "Are you sure Mikan was lying?"

Natsume looked as though he had been slapped. "Why are you on her side? Luna isn't that kind of person!" At that moment, the soft ding indicated that a customer had just entered the restaurant, but Natsume continued, "Mikan Sakura is just a lying, jealous bitch." His eyes burned with fury.

Ruka's eyes trailed to the door helplessly, and widened in horror as he took in the two women standing at the door. One of them had short dark hair framing her delicate face, and the other had messy brown hair scraped hastily into a ponytail. But the look of shock, horror and fury on their faces were similar. But nothing could prepare Ruka for the fallout that was about to happen right in front of him. Before any of them could even react, the dark-haired lady had barreled all the way across to the bar in a flurry of Chanel No. 5 and flying black hair and gave Natsume a solid punch right on his face. The crunch sound that was made when her fist connected with his cheek seemed deafening in the quiet restaurant with classical music playing softly in the background.

"Fuck!" Natsume swore. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he snarled in between another few lines of colorful insults and swear words.

"The best friend of the girl you just insulted," Hotaru replied in a monotone, dusting off her hands on her navy skirt as though she had just touched something very unpleasant.

Mikan was just staring, horrified, as Natsume touched his face and winced. His fingers were stained with red.

"You're bleeding!" she screeched, overcome with a surge of concern so strong it momentarily blocked out the hurt at hearing him insult her. Twice, in a day. Before she could register what she was doing, she had crouched down next to Natsume and taken his sore face in her hands. Blood was trickling out of his nose, dripping onto his lips and smeared all over his cheeks. A large bruise was starting to form below his right eye. Mikan grabbed some wet wipes from her purse and swiped them across his face, ignoring the horrified glare she was sure Hotaru was shooting her. She found a Band-Aid in her emergency pouch and slapped it onto his nose haphazardly.

Natsume swore, and Mikan grimaced, "Big baby."

"I hope you didn't give me an Elsa Band-Aid, or some other Disney shit," he muttered.

"You watch Frozen? Ooh, how cute." Mikan smirked, and watched the familiar teasing glint in his eyes growing. For a while, she was transported back in time, back when the two of them could still comfortably banter and insult one another. Then she remembered that he hated her now, and the smile dropped off her face. She cleared her throat awkwardly, and Natsume's eyes grew cold again.

"You'd better watch your back," he growled, his ruby eyes finding Hotaru's dark orbs. She stared back with her usual poker face, but there was a glint in her eye.

"You too, mister," she replied coolly, not ruffled in the slightest.

Infuriated by her lack of emotions, Natsume stood up abruptly, swearing. "I'll call you later," he muttered to Ruka, deliberately avoiding Mikan's eyes as he made his way to the door, slouching.

As he drove home, he couldn't even enjoy the cool nighttime breeze that ruffled his hair through the convertible's open top. All he could think about was that darned Mikan, and how broken and anguished she had looked when she overheard his harsh words. And how quickly that look had been replaced by one of genuine concern when her best friend had decked him one, even though by right, she should have been popping champagne to celebrate his getting a black eye and bloody nose. After all, wasn't she the one insulting and cursing him just that morning?

_She's just faking it. Don't believe her. _

_She's not. I can tell from her eyes. Her eyes never lie. Her open, expressive, warm chocolate brown eyes._

Cringing, Natsume parked his car in the garage and stalked upstairs. He was just going to get changed and pour himself a drink, and hopefully the alcohol will help to take his mind off Mikan Sakura. As he passed the large mirror in the living room, he couldn't help but stop and wince at his face. For God's sake, he put food on the table with this face. What was he going to do now? He would have to cancel his gigs for the next few days while his face healed. He grimaced at the Barbie Band-Aid tacked over his nose messily, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to peel it off.

_Stop being sentimental and sappy, you wuss. _He chided himself, and defiantly ripped off the cheerful pink bandage. But he was still bleeding. Cursing Hotaru Imai once again, he rummaged in the drawers to hunt for a brand new, less infantile Band-Aid. He could probably sue her if he wanted to, but he was honestly not in the mood for more trouble. And to be very honest, he could sort of see her rationale behind punching him. He kind of deserved it. Maybe. Probably.

Growling in frustration at his muddled thoughts, he slammed the drawers shut after a futile search. He must have forgotten to stock up on Band-Aids. Feeling another trickle of warm liquid trickling onto his lip, he hurried to Luna's room and knocked softly, figuring that girls would most likely have tons of crap in their purses— stuff like hand sanitizers and bandages.

There was no reply, so he went in a little apprehensively. Luna was sound asleep, curled up in the bed with a bright pink satin eye mask pulled over her eyes. Not wanting to wake her up, Natsume crept to her bedside table and opened the drawer, trying to be as quiet as he could. He had to tilt his head up at an awkward angle and cup a hand over his nose to prevent the blood from dripping down, so he rummaged through the drawer. As expected, Luna had already made herself at home and filled the drawer with makeup and random bits and pieces.

No luck. He looked in the dressing table as well, and on top of all the tubes of perfume and whatnot, there was a thin sheaf of papers. Credit card bills, Natsume realized. His eyes flicked through the black print absently, disinterested, as he dug around for a Band-Aid. Jesus Christ, did no one believe in Band-Aids anymore? Except for Mikan Sakura, anyway.

Who did she think she was anyway? Mary Poppins? Who carried around a purse with all kinds of random crap like that? He let out a snort of quiet laughter as he recalled that she brought nausea pills with her too. He wondered what else she kept in that bag of hers. His fingers slid over a slim box, and he felt triumphant. Natsume Hyuuga's Search for Band-Aids was officially over.

He pulled out the box, and squinted at it in the dim glow of light from the bedside lamp. He realized belatedly that it was not a box of Band-Aids he was holding. Oh, no.

It was a box of itching powder.

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><p>Not proof-read. I think this is one of the longest chapters I've written for this story. o_o Hope you guys liked it!<p> 


	20. Pop

**Author's Note:** I suck, I know, but thank you guys for being so patient with me! I just finished up my exams two days ago. :') If you like Kurobas, check out my Wattpad because I update a bit more often there! Link's in my profile. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own GA.

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

Chapter 20: Pop

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><p>Squinting closely, Natsume realized that the box must have fallen out of the sparkly silver clutch thrown carelessly into the drawer. The clasp must have snapped open in the process, spilling endless tubes of lipstick, mascara and... the itching powder. No, it couldn't be. It must be some kind of mistake. But... Why else would Luna have itching powder? Natsume may not be a woman, but heck, even he knew that normal women do not carry around a box of itching powder as though it was a box of tampons in their purses.<p>

Natsume raked a hand through his messy black hair, and dumped everything silently back into the drawer. As he headed out of the room, noting with relief that Luna was still asleep (and snoring, truth be told), he forgot all about his bloody nose.

He scowled in frustration, but even as his mind fought a fierce Mikan vs Luna battle, he knew one part of his mind was winning.

The part that doubted Luna. The part that trusted Mikan.

And even if he hated to admit it, it was true. He knew first-hand how pushy Luna could be, and he recalled how possessive she had acted when he went over to her mini Jacuzzi party for two.

_Maybe because she sees me as a threat?_ Mikan's scathing retort popped into his mind, and he shuddered. He had been pretty blind, he grudgingly admitted to himself. It was just that he had always been in the center of female attention, with beautiful women practically begging for a piece of him, so much so that Luna's clinginess did not strike him as unusual.

He had never treated her as a potential girlfriend, or rather, sex friend. He had always seen her as a good friend, a little sister to look out for. Well, yes, he had been kind of misleading, making use of her to get Mikan riled up. Perhaps she had gotten the wrong idea? Natsume winced. He was loath to admit it, but he had been pretty much a jackass.

There was only one thing to do. Apologize. Just once, Natsume would try to put aside his huge ego and apologize to the girl he hurt so much. He didn't know why he bothered so much, but he would do anything, anything at all, just to put the smile back on her face. The thing was, he had no idea how the heck he was going to do. Hell, he had always been the one to break hearts, not mend them.

He picked up his phone and fired off a couple of texts. Then, grimacing, he tapped a few numbers and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"It's me. Don't say a single word. Just listen."

* * *

><p>"Hey, will you forgive Natsume Hyuuga if he apologized?" Hotaru asked abruptly.<p>

Mikan glanced up from the TV screen, to which she had been glued for the past 6 hours. She knew she was being pathetic. Just because of one single lying douchebag, she had been reduced to a crying mess with tangled hair, puffy eyes, stuffing herself with Haagen Dazs and crazy reality shows. _Just one more day of wallowing in self pity, _she promised herself. _Then you have to get back on your feet, okay? _

"Apologize? Pigs would fly and dinosaurs would rule the world before he ever does that," Mikan sniffed.

"I said _if,_" Hotaru insisted as she clicked away on her MacBook, doing whatever genius-y bizarre things that go on in her busy corporate world.

"To be honest? I don't know," Mikan admitted, hitting the pause button on the remote control, making Kim Kardashian freeze on the screen. "I would really want to forgive him, obviously, but he lied to me. He made a fool out of me."

She winced. "Can we not talk about him? Please? I just want to forget all about it."

"Fine, whatever." Hotaru shrugged. "Let's go out for dinner. Ruka and I want to test out our new dinner menu."

"Since when were you guys on a first name basis?" Mikan peered at her best friend curiously. She was down in the dumps, sure, but not so much that she missed out on an opportunity to poke her nose into her best friend's possible love life.

Hotaru looked blankly at her, then continued typing. "Just get dressed."

And in an hour's time, the two turned up at Hotaru's restaurant, much to Mikan's misery. She just wanted to lie on the couch, lick her wounds and watch more mindless TV shows. Which clearly wasn't going to happen with Hotaru around. She had seemed unusually determined to get her out of the house. She had even forced Mikan to put on some makeup so that she did not look like "something that just crawled out from a graveyard".

"You're not going broke, are you?" Mikan asked in horror upon seeing the dark restaurant that did not seem to have a single soul inside. "Is your restaurant going bust?"

Hotaru's deep dark orbs found Mikan's. "Is that possible, with a financial whiz like me on the team?"

"Why else would it be completely empty? On a _Sunday _night?"

"Because." Hotaru pushed open the heavy glass doors. "It's reserved." With that, she pushed Mikan inside. "Good luck," she said in that calm, quiet voice of hers.

"What—" Mikan was beyond bewildered as she stumbled into the restaurant, which was pitch-black. "Hotaru?" she squeaked, her voice scratchy with nerves. "What's going on? Is this some kind of early Halloween joke? Oh my God, are you an accomplice in some murder case?"

Just then, a glowing ball floated down to her. Mikan blinked rapidly. Was she going crazy? What the heck was this weird thing? A mini UFO? Tentatively, she touched it, hoping it wasn't some crazy alien craft that would explode or suck her up into the galaxy. The familiar, rubbery texture made her almost laugh out loud in relief. It was just a balloon. The coolest balloon she had ever seen. But not a UFO. She must have played too much of the Sims lately.

Then, all of a sudden, about a dozen more glow-in-the-dark balloons drifted down from the ceilings. Mikan could only stare, too mesmerized by the amazing sight to question what in the world was going on. Purple, blue, pink, green... The balloons fell to the floor soundlessly and bounced gently. The colors of the glowing balloons were so dazzling that it took Mikan about 30 seconds to realize there was something written on each of them.

_"Poke me."_

Curiosity got the better of Mikan, and she picked up a blue balloon. _It had better be worth the shock I'm gonna give to myself, _she thought to herself, then winced and jabbed the balloon hard with her fingernail.

_"Bang!"_ Blue rubber fragments erupted around her, and she was so shell-shocked that it took her yet another 30 seconds to realize that a piece of paper dropped out of the popped balloon. She bent down, picked up the piece of paper and saw only two words on it, written in glow-in-the-dark ink.

_I'm sorry. _

Mikan's heart started pounding like a freight train, and her head felt a little woozy. Was this... Dazedly, she picked up another balloon, a pink one this time, and poked it without hesitation. With a ear-deafening bang, another piece of paper fell out.

_Forgive me?_

Mikan clutched the note in her hand, and picked up the balloons one by one, poking them to reveal the little messages they carried. There were so many that by the time she got to the last one, she was all but immune to the sound of popping balloons.

_I was a jerk._

_:(_

_I shouldn't have doubted you._

_You can kick me in the balls again._

_You can get your revenge by calling me mean names to my face._

_You can even call me... -shudders- ugly._

_I deserve it._

A few of those she burst did not contain notes, but little things that made Mikan smile.

A Ferrero Rocher.

Rose petals.

A silver necklace.

The last one landed perfectly in Mikan's hand as the balloon it was in burst, as though it was always meant to be there. She looked, dumbfounded, at the glittering necklace tangled in her hands and felt tears well up in her eyes. It had to be him. It _had _to be.

"So."

The all-too-familiar, husky voice of his broke the silence that was no longer filled by the balloons' scary explosions.

Mikan swallowed hard, overwhelmed by emotions. It felt weird, standing there in the darkness, clutching an armful of notes and little surprises, not seeing him but hearing his soothing voice.

"Hey," Mikan said, her voice sounding choked up. "What..." She floundered for the right words. "What is this?" She finished lamely.

"This?" She could feel him getting closer to her. She couldn't see him, but she could _feel _him. And all she wanted to do was to lunge forward and touch him. But a tiny seed of unease and a few shreds of dignity held her back.

"This is me acting like a horny teenage boy asking a girl out to prom." She heard Natsume's voice, getting closer by the second. She heard soft footsteps, and she tensed up. Her body was tingling all over with longing and excitement.

"This is me shoving aside my huge-ass ego."

"Well, it's time," Mikan said, even though her heart was swelling with emotion and love for him. "How... how do you see so well in the dark, anyway?"

"They call me the Black Cat, don't they? The media? So I have cat-like vision, obviously. But shh, don't interrupt me."

"This is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night."

Laughter bubbled out of Mikan's throat even as she stood there, all riled up with nerves and anticipation for what he was going to do.

"Are you quoting a Taylor Swift song, Natsume Hyuuga?"

"Well, you're the only person who knows about my being a Taylor Swift fan, so shush. Don't make this more embarrassing that it already is." His voice sounded muffled.

"This is me saying I'm sorry for accusing you when I didn't get my facts right." Yup, he was right behind Mikan now. So close that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it too.

"Well, you should be," she said quietly. But she felt a sense of unease slide down her spine. Wasn't he going to come clean about the whole being-infertile thing? It was the perfect opportunity. She was on the brink of giving in and forgiving him, but she couldn't. Not if he didn't tell the truth. "Anything else you're sorry about?" She prompted.

"Umm... I'm sorry I made you think you were being murdered by your best friend?"

Natsume's strong arms wrapped around Mikan's waist gently, making her stiffen. She was feeling so torn and confused and disappointed. Why? Why didn't he want to come clean? Was it so fun messing with her? _Shut up! _the hopeless romantic in her cried. _Don't ruin this! It's so cute and romantic, so just savor it and forgive him, you dumbass!_

Natsume reached around Mikan and felt around for the necklace in her hands. "Wear it. It'll look better on your neck than in your hands." She felt him bring the silver chain to her neck, felt the cold metal sizzle on her hot skin.

"No, wait," she breathed out. "I need you to tell me. What exactly are you apologizing for?"

_Don't do it! Don't think so much! Just enjoy this, you idiot! _

"God, you really want to embarrass me all you can, don't you? But fine, since I promised to kick aside my ego just for today," Natsume sighed. "I'm sorry for blaming you for Luna's fall, sorry for calling you all those awful names. Okay?"

"Just that?"

Natsume sounded slightly impatient now. "Yeah, well, what else? Oh, maybe I should apologize for being so irresistibly hot that you're getting all messed up just being this close to me?"

A sense of disappointment welled up inside her. Mikan decided to just give it one more try.

"Have you ever lied to me? Be honest."

"Why're you being so weird? Never, okay? Now, be quiet and let me put this on you."

A sour feeling stabbed at her repeatedly. Yes, she felt touched and amazed that he went to all this trouble to apologize. Yes, she felt incredibly honored and pleased.

_Then just ignore everything else and kiss him, for God's sake!_

However, she knew then that she could not ignore it. She could not just forgive him like that, or he would never tell the truth. And then, what would happen? If she just pretended she didn't know, at the end of their little contract, would he just tell her, "You've already served your punishment for making me infertile. Now, goodbye"? Would they just go back to being strangers, him being the superstar that he was and her just being ordinary, boring Mikan? Would she just be cast to one side once she had served her purpose of entertaining Natsume Hyuuga, destined to a fate of seeing him mess around with other supermodels in gossip magazines? Or would it be better to thrash things out once and for all here?

Where did she even stand? Was she an acquaintance? A friend? A slave? A romantic interest? Mikan suddenly felt overwhelmed. She was completely clueless. She felt completely lost, like she was floating aimlessly on a raft in the pitch black ocean.

All these thoughts wiped out the whiny inner voice pleading for her to ignore reality and accept Natsume's apology like a clueless fool. They helped her make her decision.

"No, stop." She spun around to face him. It was still completely dark, but being so close to him, Mikan could make out his shape briefly. He was still holding out the necklace, looking confused.

"Stop. I don't want it. I don't want all of these," Mikan forced herself to say. "I... A relationship... I mean friendship... or well, whatever, but it has to be based on trust. Not built on lies." _And ours is built on one huge, massive, ginormous lie._

"What the hell? What are you talking about?" Natsume frowned, his impeccable brows furrowed together. "Look, you're just overwhelmed with emotions. You just need..."

"Don't patronize me!" Mikan cried out, her arms flying out. The notes fluttered to the ground. "You don't know me. You don't know what I need. If you do, you'd know I want to be respected. I don't want to be lied to."

"You may think I'm completely bonkers for not buying your apology," Mikan said, and she could tell from his stunned silence that yes, he thought she was completely crazy. "To some people, well, maybe I am."

Her chest heaved with the deep breaths she was taking in, and she was glad it was so dark he couldn't see her face.

"I'm going to give you one more chance. Have you ever lied to me, right from the start?"

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><p>I've got loads of drama planned, heheheh. In fact, so much that I have to figure out how to fit it all in logically. ^^"<p> 


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